Eros
by ExpensiveTastes
Summary: Overachieving freshman Bella Swan's world collides with carefree Phi Chi Kappa president Edward Cullen's. Surviving college. Surviving each other. It's going to be quite a year. AU/AH.
1. ONE: The Next Logical Step

*waves* \o/

**Summary: **Bella Swan is an overachieving freshman who can hold her own. Edward Cullen is the president of the fraternity Phi Chi Kappa whose idea of 'looking to the future' is ordering a keg for the weekend three days in advance. Both attend Monroe Bradbury University intent on getting the best experience college has to offer - in two very different ways. Can romance and companionship help this unlikely pair find the balance between having fun and taking education seriously? With their friends by their sides they learn that maybe college is about more than parties or grades - maybe it's about growing up. Welcome to Monroe Bradbury University. It's going to be quite a year.

**! The more you know !:** Monroe Bradbury University is a fictional college. The name comes from a combination of the University my best friend attends (Monroe College in NY) and the fictional college, Bradbury University, from the movie The Butterfly Effect.

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is all I got to my name._

* * *

_She said all she ever wanted was a safe bet_

_ So she'll never come undone_

_ So if you feel the light under the silver moon_

_ We'll sing the same old songs, just like we used to do_

**all she wanted - the right coast**

FALL SEMESTER

**Chapter One:** The Next Logical Step or Simply Another Relocation

"Bella!" Alice squealed, launching herself across the room with remarkable speed. She flung her body against mine and wrapped her tiny arms around my shoulders. I dropped the bags I'd been carrying with a thud and returned the hug, trying unsuccessfully to match her excessive enthusiasm.

"Alice!" I winced as she tightened the embrace, making it nearly impossible for me to breathe. "You do realize it's been less than twenty-four hours since we've last seen each other." I wheezed dramatically, hoping to alert her of my impending collapse should she continue denying my lungs the ability to expand and fill with oxygen. It was impressive how tightly her small frame was capable of squeezing me.

"I know that!" She laughed lightly and finally released my body from her vice grip, shaking her head. "But, we're _here_! We _made_ it! We are officially a part of the two-thousand and ten Monroe Bradbury University freshman class."

She bounced around the small dorm room clapping her hands together and I couldn't help but find her energy contagious. Even though I felt my acceptance letter had already served as a true testament to my place at the college, I had to agree that actually being here made everything feel a bit more real. Unnerving, yes, but also real.

There was a deep grumble of someone clearing their throat behind me and I spun around to see Charlie in the doorway struggling with a stack of large plastic boxes containing my things. His face was turning a particularly worrisome shade of red as he gripped the containers precariously by the tips of his fingers and I rushed over to help him before he suffered a coronary.

"Oh!" I squeaked, taking the top two boxes. "Sorry!"

The last thing I needed on my first day on my own, physically away from Forks and emotionally even farther away from Phoenix, was Charlie having a heart attack.

"Chief Swan!"

Once I had helped him lower the containers to the floor, Alice skipped back across the room to assault my dad in the same manner as she had done me, wrapping her arms around his mid-section in a tight hug. I didn't miss the way his posture stiffened and his mouth pressed into a tight, white line, though Alice did. Or maybe she just ignored it. Either way, his comically twitching moustache would make anyone believe he was highly uncomfortable, and maybe he really was, but I knew that secretly he loved the doting and the shows of affection.

"Long time no see, Alice," he chuckled, when she had released him, rolling his eyes with exaggeration as he smoothed the front of his shirt. I giggled too, remembering the night before when the three of us had shared a table at the Fork's diner with Alice's parent's, the Brandon's, celebrating our last night in town. We'd definitely been a louder table than the Fork's diner was used to hosting, swapping stories and memories and laughing until the tears rolled down our cheeks. Charlie included if you could believe it.

Alice and I had been friends since the very first day I moved to Forks from my mother's place in Phoenix. I had been relatively unsure of my living arrangement with Charlie considering our preceding time together had been a few weeks per summer back before I'd turned twelve. Those short visits were hardly comparable to moving in completely and claiming permanent residence, but I actually found the transition to be unexpectedly smooth. It helped that on my first day at Forks High School it was Alice who had been assigned to showing me around and helping me get to my classes. I remember finding her absolutely exhausting at the time - exhausting, but also distracting - and I welcomed anything that kept my attention away from the dozens of pairs of eyes curiously probing 'the new girl'.

Apparently, in Alice's world, helping me manage my locker combination was equivalent to pressing our bloodied palms together in a friendship pact, because from that first, not-nearly-as-terrifying-as-it-could've-been day on, we were inseparable. I like to think that I had been proactive in our budding friendship, rather than merely a willing participant, but really, all the credit goes to Alice. Despite the fact that I was awkward and boring by high school standards, Alice never took no for an answer when it came to our friendship, beginning with that first day after the dismissal bell had rung. Instead of skipping off to join one of the groups talking and laughing and socializing in the parking lot, she'd latched onto the sleeve of my dark blue parka and begged me to come over to her house, claiming she needed a fresh eye to judge the outfit she'd picked for the Homecoming dance. Despite my 'eye for fashion' being a little, well, blind, and the Homecoming dance still being two months away, I had little time to argue or protest before she was shoving me towards my truck and instructing me to follow her bright yellow Cabrio home.

Alice and I were opposites in many ways, but somehow it worked. We filled in each other's gaps and maximized the other's strengths. We persuaded each other to try new things and gain new experiences. We kept each other grounded. When one of us was hurting, so was the other. When Alec DeMazzi broke Alice's heart two days before the Spring formal, I'd showed up on her doorstep with a pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream and a reluctant, grumbled offer to be her stand in date. When I'd been stuck on the couch for two weeks with three bruised ribs, she'd bought every classic novel available in Port Angeles and hand delivered them with a Grande Vanilla Chai and a bookmark she'd beaded herself.

We weren't always in sync - her breezing through the halls of high school, while I choose to shuffle around quietly, hidden beneath my hoodie - but we were always on the same page, always keenly aware of what the other needed and almost eerily in tune to the others feelings.

That's not to say things were constantly smooth sailing. Alice and I experienced our fair share of rough seas. We were both stubborn and often had trouble seeing eye-to-eye, neither of us ever wanting to be the first to back down. We knew how to annoy each other, just what buttons to push without going too far. We were like sisters in every sense of the word - hair-pulling, screaming matches and crocodile tears included.

Our history both excited me and terrified me for the future. We were now truly testing our bond. Together, we were on our own for the very first time (as much as one can be 'on their own' with their best friend) and attempting to conquer four year college. It would certainly be interesting if nothing else.

Despite our friendship, it was not an easy, cut-and-dry decision to dorm with my bff. Initially, the thought of living with Alice in such small quarters was terrifying, however, after assessing my other options, I found the idea of rooming with a complete stranger even more intimidating

The truth of the matter was that Alice still exhausted me sometimes. Even though I had built up enough stamina to regularly endure her full-throttle personality, I relied on my hours of solitude in my bedroom at Charlie's to recharge. It was nice to curl up on my purple polka dot bedspread with a book and enjoy some serious alone time now and then.

Before taking this leap, the closest experience Alice and I'd ever had to living together was a long and uninterrupted week in California when I joined the Brandon's on their summer vacation. We'd gotten along fine, but I wasn't sure how things would pan out with studying and fixed schedules thrown into the mix. The semester was also roughly four months long, greatly surpassing our one week trial run. I just hoped the arrangement wouldn't sacrifice my studies, or worse, our friendship.

Monroe Bradbury University was a medium-sized college located an hour or so south of Portland, Oregon. It was four hours away from Forks - far enough away for me to be out from under Charlie's watchful eye, but close enough to drive home should I suddenly miss the damp, dreary, green-tinted place I'd come to call home. It was a good enough school with a wide variety of majors and clubs and facilities, but the truth of the matter was that I could have attended a number of prestigious colleges.

I was an intelligent girl and many subjects came easy to me without hours upon hours of effort. Those few that didn't just required more work to pull out the A. My grades were nearly flawless, though my college applications lacked the kind of extra-curricular activities that colleges rewarded with scholarships.

I was uncoordinated and clumsy, so sports were out of the question pretty much since birth. The last organized physical activity I had participated in was ballet when I was seven. During my third lesson, I broke my wrist attempting an extremely simple position which should have required zero hand involvement to begin with, let alone enough to cause injury. Needless to say, I never went back. The cruel and unusual punishment that was state mandated P. E. continually renewed my belief that physical activity just was not for me.

During my first two years of high school in Phoenix, I joined a few after school clubs that pertained to my interests, but I preferred to be a sheep rather than a shepherd and never volunteered for any positions of leadership. Of course, my school in Arizona was three times the size of Forks High and properly funded for extra-curriculars like book clubs and science teams. Forks High couldn't even afford up-to-date history textbooks. There wasn't very much to get involved with and after meeting Alice, I found my extra time filled with things of the more unscholarly persuasion. That's not to say we were off being juvenile delinquents every afternoon after class, just that to Alice 'the Classics' were more along the lines of Sixteen Candles and Animal House.

So, lacking the well-rounded quality of scholarship worthy applicants, my top-ranked college acceptance letters were without monetary assistance. And since Charlie's small town police chief position just barely held steady in the medium-income bracket, _and_ since I had very little savings to my name, most of my preferred schools were knocked out of the running.

I tried not to be angry with Charlie knowing it was completely irrational and selfish of me. Deep down, I knew if he'd predicted there was even a flicker of a chance that I would suddenly and permanently become a dependant presence in his home and life, he would have started saving up some cash to assist me with my future from the beginning. As it was a portion of his pay check had been going into an account in my name for the better part of the past two years, which was a lot more than could be said for my mother. She was a bit of a flake, especially when it came to looking towards the future, which had landed me in the predicament of needing Charlie's help in the first place. It was all very frustrating, but I was grateful for what I did have. However, in the private confines of my mind I allowed myself to be selfish and angry and unreasonable - until the guilt set in - and that never took long. Throughout the entire humbling ordeal, I did hold on to one, nonnegotiable requirement of the college I attended - it had to be out of state.

See, another charming personality trait of my darling mother was her brutal honesty. She rarely spoke about Charlie and when she did it was almost always indirectly. The small remaining percentage of Charlie-centric discussions were always dramatic and desperate and tear-filled.

_Bella, honey, never make my mistakes._

_Your father who convinced me to settle down in Forks and it is one of my biggest regrets._

_That small town crippled me. It ruined my life. It extinguished my spark, Bella. Charlie never thought about what was best for me. He never thought about what was best for us._

_Promise me, Bella. Promise me that you'll never let a man trap you in some rinky-dink, dream-crushing town. Be a strong, independent woman._

At the time, I neglected to remind my mom that I was actually conceived and born in that 'rinky-dink, dream-crushing' town and that Charlie's ability to support us as a family was dependent on his position as police chief. He didn't have very many other skills that didn't involve watching football or casting a fishing line, so where were we supposed to go exactly? And since the day I'd shown up in Forks with my faded purple suitcase, he'd thought about nothing _but _what was best for me, which was a lot more than my mother had managed over the years.

On top of it all, it seemed unfairly critical of her to judge Charlie, especially when I was given the shaft once minor league baseball hopeful Phil entered her life. Apparently my mother, strong and independent woman that she was, desired nothing more than to accompany him on the road. That plan conflicted with her obligation to be my parent and I effectively shipped myself out to Forks so that she didn't have to.

Ironically, she hadn't fought me on the decision despite the fact that I was exiling myself to the very place she repeatedly begged me to avoid at all costs. She did, however, in one final, desperate plea before I boarded the plane, grip my shoulders so hard it hurt. She kissed my cheek then whispered in my ear, her voice thick with desperation, "_don't get trapped, Bella. Get out of there as soon as you can._"

Not that she ever offered any assistance in that department.

Still, I did love my eccentric, dramatic mother. While our history was riddled with potholes, not all roads had been rocky. There had been good times and I never doubted that she loved me in the best way she knew how. And, because I knew deep down she did want the best for me, something about her words haunted me during my time in Forks.

Charlie's life in Forks - the one that I came to share - wasn't nearly as deplorable as my mother described, but it _was_ mediocre and ordinary. In Forks, there was very little opportunity for advancement or job placement that didn't involve wearing some type of apron. Luckily, a few out of state colleges recognized my potential, namely Monroe Bradbury University who offered me an academic scholarship that would cover two-thirds of my yearly tuition, minus room and board. The remaining fee was doable without digging myself into a massive hole of student loans. The catch was that I needed to maintain a ceiling grade. A sustained three-point-five grade point average requirement seemed fair enough to me and I doubted I'd have any trouble.

Alice's decision to attend MBU was much more straightforward. To put it simply, she followed me.

Alice applied to all the colleges I did, minus those she deemed 'too snooty' for her tastes. Ironically, the 'snooty' schools were the one's I longed to attend, but was unable to because I couldn't realistically afford them without selling my soul. Even more ironic was the fact that Alice's family could.

The Brandon's were not what you would consider particularly wealthy, but they were the type of family Norman Rockwell had in mind when he created his masterpieces. Alice had grown up with two loving parents who mandated family dinner nights four out of seven nights of the week. They sent out Christmas cards signed in delicate cursive by each member of the family and went on vacations together every summer. Mr. Brandon had taught Alice how to ride a two-wheel bike, chasing her down the street yelling words of encouragement and later how to drive, keeping his temper in check even when she backed into the garage door. Mrs. Brandon baked pink-frosted cakes for all of Alice's birthdays and took her back to school shopping every year. And Alice's parents had been putting money away for her college expenses since the night she was merely a pink plus sign on a pregnancy test stick.

I wasn't jealous of Alice as much as I was disappointed that I had missed out on any semblance of traditional childhood. The time for my daddy to be teaching me to tie my shoes and my mommy showing me how to French braid was long gone.

"Well, one more trip should do it," Charlie estimated, referring to the last of my things still loaded in the bed of my old red pickup truck sitting out in the parking lot. I nodded in agreement as my mind was pulled back into the present and I took inventory of the bags and boxes piled around my feet.

Alice's things were already mostly unpacked and in serious danger of spilling over into my designated personal space, but it certainly wasn't surprising. I'd be willing to bet she'd managed no more than two hours of sleep the previous night, priding herself of being the only new student moved into the dorms before dawn. Alice had also found it necessary to bring every single possession to college, despite my warnings of the room being spatially challenged.

She _claimed _everything she had stuffed into her large purple Rubbermaid containers was a necessity, though I was curious to discover exactly how often she'd find use for the hot pink pom-poms currently hanging off the post of her bed. If I remembered correctly, she'd purchased them to complete the cheerleader Halloween costume she'd worn in fifth grade - the same Halloween costume Charlotte Marcaso showed up in, which apparently was enough to explain their continued rivalry throughout high school.

Alice offered to help Charlie and me carry in the remainder of my things from outside, but we both politely declined knowing there wasn't much left. I followed my father out of the room and down the hall quietly, realizing suddenly that our time together was coming to a close quickly. I felt the urge to say something profound and moving, but words were failing me. This was a rare and frustrating occurrence and it made me feel guilty that expressing affection towards my father was so difficult. The truth was that I'd never said goodbye to Charlie with any kind of sincerity before.

The first time I'd left him was with my mother and I'd been too young to understand. There had been no hugs or well wishes. The times when I'd spent a week in Forks over summer vacation during my childhood had been painful, and by the time my flight was boarding, I couldn't get away fast enough. But over the past two years, Forks had become a home, not a sentence, and Charlie had become my father instead of just a chaperone. For the first time, I would miss what I would be leaving behind in Washington.

As I followed him silently to the end of the hall and out into the balmy late August air I wondered if he was struggling with words as well. I figured as much, after all we were eerily similar. When we reached the truck I peeked into the bed. Only one canvas suitcase remained.

"Looks like I can get the rest," I said with a small smile, flexing my small bicep.

"I can carry it in for you," Charlie offered, hoisting the bag up out of the truck bed and placing it on the ground by my feet.

I considered it for a moment before deciding that I could only prolong his departure for so long.

"It's ok. I got it."

We both glanced idly around the parking lot which was dotted with parents and teenagers carrying their things across to the dorms and embracing in tearful goodbyes. I chewed my lip anxiously and Charlie cleared his throat, redirecting my attention. It seemed he was as ready as I was to get this awkward exchange over with.

"You'll have to tell Alice I said goodbye. Oh and to stay out of trouble. You two better keep an eye out for each other," Charlie warned with a chuckle, his moustache twitching back and forth over his upper lip.

I nodded in compliance and offered a small smile, rubbing my hands together.

Unexpectedly, he pulled me into a rough, awkward embrace and I surprised myself by wrapping my arms tightly around his middle and returning the squeeze. I couldn't remember the last time I had hugged Charlie, but it wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as I'd anticipated. I buried my head into his shoulder inhaling the scent of Zest soap and the faint spice of the cologne I had bought him last Christmas. I knew it must have been a deliberate choice of his to splash some on this morning and it made me smile.

Somehow, I'd landed the role of caretaker in both relationships with my parents, whether by choice or necessity. My mother had needed someone to keep her grounded and talk her out of her wackier ideas. I'd averted her from more than one disastrous situations with logic, reasoning and occasionally a shiny distraction.

Charlie would have been content treating me for dinner at the Forks Diner and heating up frozen single-serve meals. He didn't mind that his undershirts were wrinkled or that the coffee table was coated in a layer of dust thick enough to write your name in. I'd slipped easily and comfortably into the domestic role, cooking and cleaning and helping with the laundry. I didn't mind the tasks and he was so gracious about my contributions that it made me want to do even more.

Just as I'd worried before leaving my mother, I now worried about how Charlie would do without me. Seeming to read my mind, he released me and looked down into my face seriously, shaking his head from side to side.

"Now, I'll miss your chicken parmesan and that delicious breakfast casserole you whip up, but remember Bella, I fended fine for sixteen years on my own. Besides," he added, scratching the back of his neck and suddenly becoming extremely interested with the toes of his boots, "Sue really enjoys cooking too."

My eyes widened and my jaw went slack in response to his sly admission. "Sue Clearwater?" I asked stupidly, knowing full well the answer was yes.

Sue was a friend of Charlie's through her husband, Harry, who had passed away last summer. Charlie and Harry had been fishing buddies and when an unexpected heart attack claimed his life Charlie had been there for her and she for him. I'd noticed she'd started stopping over much more frequently with baked goods and containers of beef stew as the time for me to leave for college approached.

"Well, yeah," Charlie mumbled, still not meeting my eyes. "With Harry gone and the kids off in a hundred different directions she says there's no one around her house that appreciates a home-cooked meal."

"Oh, I bet you're very appreciative," I teased.

Charlie's face blanched then flamed red and I couldn't help but giggle.

Truthfully, I was happy for him. As far as I knew, he hadn't been romantically involved with anyone since my mother. I liked knowing someone, at very least, would take over my place as head chef in the Swan kitchen.

Once his face had returned to its natural color and my giggling fit had subsided we stood in awkward silence, waiting for the inevitable exchange of good-byes.

"I'll miss you," I said quietly and it was true. I was like my father in so many ways it was scary. It made us oddly compatible. Living in Forks could have, and should have, been a nightmare but it wasn't.

"The cruiser could make it down here in four hours if you ever need me. And don't forget WU is always available. You could move back home and commute and we-"

I held up my hand to silence him, already familiar with his mantra of closer college offers.

"I'll be fine and I'll be home for winter break."

He nodded and pulled open the driver's side door of my red pickup, hesitating momentarily before climbing in.

"Be good, Bells."

I nodded as he closed the door. There would be nothing more - no fatherly demands that I do well in my classes or stay away from partying or eat right. There would be no ultimatums or final warnings about GPAs.

I stepped back away from the truck as it roared to life, remembering the morning Charlie had surprised me with the red beast. It had only been my third day living in Forks and he'd bought it cheap off a friend. Looking back, I guess the truck was a symbol of my relationship with Charlie. It was an old rusted piece of junk with little hope of starting up, let alone getting me from point A to point B, but with a little patience and a lot of elbow grease I had come to love it. I had come to love Charlie.

We exchanged waves and tight smiles as he pulled out of the spot. I watched him drive through the parking lot and down the road until the truck became a tiny pinprick of red and then disappeared from sight completely.

I sighed and then it was over. Charlie was gone and a new part of my life was beginning. I was a college student. I had made it.

My excitement renewed, I bolted from my spot in the parking lot, my sneakers slapping against the pavement as I sprinted across the street and back up to the dorms.

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	2. TWO: All The Best Heroes Have Sidekicks

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is all I got to my name._

Hey! I've found this fic is much easier on the eye at the 3/4 setting. So, try that out. :)

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_But it was fun, fun, fun_  
_ When we were drinking._  
_ It was fun, fun, fun_  
_ When we were drunk_  
_ And it was fun, fun, fun_  
_ When we were laughing_  
_ It was fun, fun, fun_  
_ Oh, it was fun._

**5 years time - noah and the whale**

**Chapter Two:** All The Best Heroes Have Sidekicks

"Here's to another year, boys! May your beds be full of females, your cups be full of beer and your hearts be full of love for this year's Phi Chi Kappa president - Edward Cullen!" Emmett McCarty raised his red, plastic cup in a salute to the boys crowded inside the poorly furnished living room and roped his free arm around me. He pulled me roughly into his side as the present members whooped it up and drained their own red cups. I did the same, savoring the bitter, amber liquid and familiar surroundings. I was home. And not only that, but this year I was in charge.

"First order of business," I announced seriously, shaking my plastic cup as the room quieted. "More beer!"

The group erupted into applause again then filed out of the living room and into the backyard where three cold, celebratory kegs awaited their demise. Only Emmett and I remained in the house, both of us grinning like idiots and sharing the feeling of infinite possibility. We'd waited a long time for this moment and now, finally, it was here.

"Ah, it's good to be back." Emmett sighed contentedly, finally releasing me from his crushing grip, and sank down into the brown, overstuffed arm chair behind him.

"I couldn't agree more," I responded and it was the truth. I belonged here and as far as I was concerned, it was home. I was also hell-bent on doing my chapter proud as president and I couldn't help but make my worries known. "Do you think I can handle it?"

Emmett looked up at me seriously for a moment, his eyes slowly studying my face. Then his lips cracked into a broad grin and he burst out into booming laughter, shaking his head dramatically from side to side.

"Do I think you can handle it?" he asked incredulously, rubbing his chin with his palm. "Are you serious?"

I shrugged and pressed my lips into a tight line letting him know the question stood. He huffed and shook his head again, pointing one of his large index fingers up at me from his place on the tattered arm chair.

"You're Edward-freaking-Cullen. You're practically a PCK prodigy. A Phi Chi legend. You've sweet-talked us out of over nine noise violations and eleven underage drinking citations. You led the great Zeta Pi Panty Raid of oh-eight." He paused dramatically then and bowed his head in reverence before looking back up at me, gesturing wildly back and forth with his arms. "You won the Greek Week beer chug during your sophomore year to clinch the victory over the four year reigning champs, Lambda Delta. Edward, if you can't lead us, we're fucked, 'cause no one else is nearly as qualified."

"Yeah, I guess I did do all that, huh?" I admitted with a nonchalant shrug. I scratched the back of neck attempting modesty, but couldn't help the proud smile that slid across my features. Emmett was right, if I let myself admit it. Of course, my achievements in beer drinking and panty snatching were not exactly qualifications for the job, but the respect and the trust those achievements had earned me from the other brothers most definitely was.

"Yeah," Emmett continued, leaving the greatest and most important of my accomplishments to be mentioned last, "and you convinced your poor, unsuspecting, incredibly hot and talented freshman roommate to pledge, which just might be your greatest feat to date." Emmett puffed out his chest comically and waved his hands.

"Yeah?" I teased. "Who was that asshole again?"

"Me, jackass! Please tell me you've still got enough brain cells to remember back that far!" He stood up quickly and slapped me hard on the back then took a swig from the red cup in his hand. I winced inwardly. For someone so observant, Emmett was completely lost to how much stronger he was than the average person. But rolling my shoulders as I mulled over his words, I had to agree. Getting him to pledge along side me could be considered one of my proudest moments.

Ironically, Emmett had been a fraternity poster boy from the start, but he was resistant to being pigeon-holed into one specific group so early on in college. Emmett's only qualm about partying was the fact that there was so much of it to do and so little time to do it all in. He wanted to sample all that Monroe Bradbury University had to offer, rather than committing to one specific niche.

The biggest surprise by far came in the form of what was his deciding factor to join me during rush.

Chance had made Emmett and I freshman roommates, but luck had made him someone I immediately got along with. It didn't hurt matters that he pulled my father into a bear-hug, practically lifting him and his hideous John Lobb loafers off the floor, within minutes of meeting him on move in day. I doubt I've ever seen my father's face grow red and puckered so quickly, which was really saying something. My parents left so fast after that I wanted to hug Emmett myself. Now that I think about it, I might have.

My parents and I never exactly got along. This was actually was the driving force behind my desire to join a fraternity in the first place. I knew they'd disapprove greatly and that was more than enough motivation for me to rush. My father didn't buy the 'bonds of brotherhood' and 'lifelong connections' that the flyers boasted. He knew what I was looking for.

I guess it occurred to me early on that my venture might be more fun with a friend. After three days as dorm roommates and one painful mattress wrestling match, Emmett was the closest thing to a friend that I had and so, without him knowing it at the time, I chose him to be my partner in crime.

My efforts had been going well. Not stellar, but I was making progress. I had planted the seed and was watering it lovingly. I had, of course, been neglecting to mention the minor philanthropic duties of a fraternity as required by the MBU Greek Council for fear that any reference outside of alcohol and hot girls would send Emmett running for the hills. Convincing him to join me on my plight for brotherhood had become somewhat of a challenge and besides my affinity for challenges, I realized I was really starting to like the guy, beyond his ability to fluster my father and eat a large pepperoni pizza in eight minutes flat.

In what I had assumed at the time was a major slipup on my part, I'd asked him to come to the sorority Powder Puff tournament hosted by the Phi Chi Kappas, hoping to continue to show him a few more of the finer points joining a fraternity had to offer. Half-naked chicks playing flag football in the mud was probably Emmett's single most favorite thing in the world and he seemed more than willing to join me until I innocently mentioned the ten dollar cover fee to get into the stadium.

"They're charging you to get in?" he'd groaned, scrunching his face up in disgust as he'd thrust his hands into his empty pockets. "Are we getting full frontal nudity or something?"

"No. No nudity. And yes, they're charging. But it's only ten bucks. I'll cover you if it's a problem," I'd quickly offered. I was not going to let a measly ten dollars undo all the progress I'd made. "Consider it your first college date," I joked, puckering up my lips. "I'll even buy you a hot dog."

I could see the way his eyebrows had knit together on his forehead as he considered it. "I don't know man. I mean, I'm flattered you feel that way about me but, the whole thing seems shady." Much to my frustration I could tell that resistance was imminent.

"Shady? Em, it's for charity!" I'd blurted out, somewhat desperately and more than a little annoyed. Almost immediately, however, I'd realized my mistake. I had been pretty confidant that charity work detracted from partying and meeting chicks, which, according to Emmett's philosophy, would be a supreme waste of time.

Emmett's expression, however, had changed completely in that moment His left eyebrow had crept so high up his forehead I'd thought it would cross over his hairline. He'd pressed his hands together and cocked his head at me thoughtfully.

"Charity, huh?" he'd asked, drumming his fingers against one another. "They're involved in stuff like that?"

"Yes," I'd admitted with a sigh, rubbing my eyes and wondering how I'd ever be able to undo this damage and convince him now. There'd been no use in lying or trying to backtrack. "Besides drinking and bedding females, fraternities are required by the Greek council to participate in charities and community service. The latter is awarded much less time, but it is a part of the Greek life nonetheless."

At that point I'd assumed my campaigning was void and that my explanation was only digging a deeper hole, but Emmett had surprised the hell out of me by beaming like a fool and nodding excitedly. After retrieving his wallet from one of the dirty pairs of jeans strewn across our dorm room floor, he'd roped an arm tightly around my neck and lead me towards the door.

"Well, I guess we'd better go then. Get a feel for our future brothers," he'd announced, pulling me along, and I'd all but fallen over in shock. In fact, I might've done just that if his hold around my neck wasn't crushing me into his side.

Up until then, I had been entirely unaware of Emmett's soft side and his subsequent affinity for aiding the less fortunate. Now, just as my Presidential seat had come as no surprise, something I'd been groomed and prepped for since the day I received my pledge pin, Emmett's position as Philanthropy chair was a natural fit. It didn't hurt that food, beer and half-naked girls could easily be factored into most charity events. Though, to his credit, Emmett could take a bottle of vodka and a Zeta Pi in a bikini and turn out a thousand dollars for children's cancer research faster than you could say body shots. It was a talent and even with the obvious perks, it took tons of compassion.

"So, when does Jazz get back?" Emmett asked with a shake of my shoulder, breaking into my thoughts and pulling me back into the present.

"Tonight," I answered, grinning at the mention of the missing piece of our trifecta.

Jasper Hale was another PCK brother, entering his third year at Monroe Bradbury and my little brother according to the Greek system. He was also my best friend. My _other_ best friend.

Jasper and Emmett were opposites both in appearance and tastes. Where Emmett was tall and broad with the athletic build of a football player, Jasper was much shorter and thinner, all long limbs and bony shoulders. Emmett was bright blue-eyed with a shocking short crop of jet black hair against pale skin. Jasper's eyes were a deep dark brown color and his blond hair hung down over his eyes and ears. Emmett played football in the backyard and drank the remaining swigs of beer left in the cups scattered around the living room after parties. Jasper played the guitar and sipped Bourbon from a goblet he kept tucked away in his room. Despite their odd quirks and differing affinities they were both laid back. They both wanted to have a good time and make the most of what college had to offer them. And they were both fiercely loyal to both me and Phi Chi Kappa.

It was surprising that what had began as a simple ploy to piss of mommy and daddy would lead to such a defining and meaningful part of my life. My parents' indirect hand in my decision to pledge Phi Chi almost made years of butting heads and mutual rejection worth it. Almost.

A sudden resounding chant of "Cullen! Cullen! Cullen!" filtered into the living room from the backyard and tore me once again from my thoughts. Emmett drained the remaining liquid from his cup, flipping it over to prove that it was empty, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Shall we, Mr. President?" he asked, gesturing towards the propped open set of shabby French doors leading out back.

I nodded with a wide grin and tossed the rest of my lukewarm beer down my throat before letting him lead me out. It was bittersweet to know this would all be ending in such a short amount of time, but I was determined to make the best of every remaining minute. I was still in the dark about what life held for me after MBU, but one thing was certain: it was going to be quite a year.

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	3. THREE: Even Roses Bloom From Dirt

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is mine._

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_Possessing all the features I've predetermined to objectify,_  
_ Effortless and rubenesque yet so perfectly aligned_

_ Beauty is the ease required for you to understand,_  
_ That single frame of animation_

**untouched & intact - the honorary title**

**Chapter Three:** Even Roses Bloom From Dirt

As soon as I rounded the corner back into my new room, Alice was flying towards the door.

"Bella!" She'd jumped up off her bed and skipped over to my side, lacing her arm through mine and pulling me inside impatiently. "I want you to meet our next-door neighbor, Rosalie."

She gestured towards a girl I was immediately convinced had stepped right out of one of the glossy fashion magazines Alice was forever pushing me to read. Her long legs were crossed casually as she sat perched on the edge of Alice's bed, clicking her perfectly manicured nails together. She tossed her long, silky blond hair over her shoulder and smiled politely, dipping her head towards me in acknowledgement. I returned the sentiment with a small wave, amused by how quickly Alice had managed to make a new friend in my absence. Such supreme social skills were not my forte and, for the first time so far, I was honestly thankful for choosing to room with my vivacious best friend.

"Rosalie is from California," Alice continued, her eyes sparkling as she continued the introductions. "I've already told her all about you."

I frowned slightly as I pulled my arm away from Alice's and dropped my bag.

I'd only been gone for five minutes at most. Besides their initial meeting and introductions, Alice had also found enough time to kidnap Rosalie to our room, which by my calculations probably left a total of fifty-three seconds in which to discuss me. Was my life really so bland that such a menial amount of time was needed to learn 'all about me'?

Feeling slightly put out, I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn't particularly exciting or interesting, but I liked to think that there was some sort of depth to my character.

Or maybe I was just being ridiculous. Maybe I was reading way to far into this. Maybe this whole new, uncomfortable situation was putting me on edge.

"I really should start unpacking," I sighed. I pushed a plastic container of my clothes across the floor with the toe of my sneaker. Maybe once I got settled, I'd feel a little bit less unnerved.

Rosalie nodded and rose from the bed and I suddenly hoped she hadn't taken my announcement as some passive aggressive sign that I wanted her to leave. I was really terrible at the whole 'making friends' ordeal.

"I should finish doing that myself, actually. Alice pulled me out of my room in the middle of putting away socks and underwear. I'm pretty sure I have a half-full box of panties sitting in the middle of my floor right now." Rosalie smiled and I was relieved that it seemed I not offended her.

"We'll see you later then!" Alice laughed and grabbed a pen and a stack of neon colored post-its off her desk. She scribbled something on the top sheet then peeled it off and handed it to Rosalie. "It's my cell phone number," she explained.

Oh, poor girl. I knew better than anyone else that once Alice deemed you worthy, there was no escaping the shackles of her friendship. Rosalie, however, seemed to either share the desire for companionship or somehow be aware of the futile nature of resisting it because she then took the pen and paper from Alice and scribbled down her own number. Alice beamed.

"See two you at the floor meeting," Rosalie said with a small smile and she exited our room with a swish of shiny blonde hair.

I knew I had absolutely no reason to feel this way, but something about her made me nervous. Something about her was cold, though I couldn't zero in on what. Once I was certain she was out of earshot, I turned to Alice and cocked an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked defensively, grabbing her cell phone up off her desk and flopping down onto her bed. "She's nice."

"She is," I agreed slowly, pulling the top off of one of my many plastic boxes and sighing at the daunting task ahead of me. Unpacking would be very time consuming. I couldn't even imagine how early Alice had arrived on campus to have finished already.

"So what was she saying about a floor meeting?" I asked, lugging a large plastic container towards my desk.

"Mandatory freshman floor meeting in two hours," she answered. Her fingers were frantically working the keys on her cell phone. "What song for her?"

"Huh?" I dropped a pile of shirts into my dresser and turned towards Alice's bed. I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Rosalie's ring tone," she replied, shaking her cell phone at me and rolling her eyes.

I couldn't help but giggle. Poor, poor Rosalie.

Alice continued pecking away at her keypad for a few more moments before snapping her phone shut and sliding down to the edge of her bed.

"Her boyfriend goes here, too, you know. His name is Emmett. He's a senior."

"Oh yeah?" I responded, only mildly interested. I had returned to unpacking and was wondering where I would hang my jackets and sweaters seeing as Alice's things had already taken up the entire closet. I turned to face her, my arms full of clothing.

"Is he living in our dorm?"

"Nope." She laughed and lifted an eyebrow as she said it, but didn't offer anymore so I just shrugged and turned back to the closet realizing, with defeat, that my clothes had no hopes of sharing the space.

I was only three-fourths done putting away my things when the time for the floor meeting rolled around, but I was admittedly farther along than I'd expected. It didn't help that I had such weird organizational quirks, like needing to organize my shirts by drawer by color or finding it imperative to line all my school supplies up in height order on my desk. Things like this were time consuming, but a necessity for me to feel comfortable in my new living space.

Every now and again, Alice would look up from her laptop and shake her head. We differed in the sense that I religiously made my bed every morning while Alice refused to on the basis that it would just be getting rumpled again in a matter of hours. For me, the little extra effort was worth that short span of time that the sheets looked clean and crisp. For Alice, it was not.

Closing her computer with a loud snap, Alice stood and stretched. "We're meeting in the lounge down the hall. I already scoped it out before you got here."

Again I wondered exactly how long she'd been here before me. Had she even slept at all the night before? I seriously doubted it.

With a sigh I surveyed my mostly unpacked things and decided now was as good a time as any for a break.

"Alright. Let's go."

I let Alice lead the way down the hall. The blue tiled walls were lined with brightly colored flyers promoting different clubs and advertising different events, though she was pulling me along too quickly for me to make out any of the words. When we reached the end of the hall, she released my arm before running her fingers through her hair and pushing open the set of heavy metal doors separating us from what I assumed was the dorm common room.

Following her across the threshold, my suspicions were confirmed. The large room held a ratty ping pong table, an old felt-topped card table and a semi-circle of ugly, dark blue couches where a few students were already sitting, looking unsure. One girl, however was perched on the arm of the farthest couch, her face shrouded by a veil of shiny blonde tresses, clicking her nails together absently. She sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder, gazing around the room and looking bored.

"Let's sit by Rosalie," Alice whispered, pulling me farther into the room.

As we moved towards the couches, Rosalie's eyes flicked to mine then performed a quick once over. Self-consciously, I peered down. I was looking a bit rumpled from dragging around boxes and unpacking, but overall I saw nothing wrong with my appearance. I met her gaze again and saw the corners of her mouth twitch up into a smile. It wasn't particularly malicious or cold, but something about it made me feel uneasy. I was further perturbed when her attention moved to Alice and her face brightened as she gave a small welcoming wave.

The meeting was long and boring as our Resident Assistant went over the policies and regulations of living in a dorm, speaking in a monotonous voice that mimicked our own level of interest. There were the normal, expected restrictions that gained a collective groan from those present and warnings of proper footwear in the community showers.

Freshman were not allowed to keep a car on campus for the first semester, but could purchase parking passes after winter break. Overnight guests were prohibited without proper notification and a contract of consent signed by your roommate. Quiet hours were strictly enforced between ten pm and seven am during the week. Alcohol was forbidden in the dorms at all times.

I tried to pay attention and retain the mind-numbing information that would be mirrored in the MBU handbook provided at the end, but behind me, huddled together on the couch, Alice and Rosalie whispered throughout most of the meeting. From my place on the floor, I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to contain the unfounded, growing dislike for Rosalie that was radiating out from the pit of my stomach. I tried to tell myself that I was being irrational and unfair, but intuition already had me vowing to keep my guard up.

Still, these thoughts were tinged with a sense of guilt. I was basing this all on what? A possibly chilly first meeting and a half-smile I thought might have held a bit of contempt? I knew I should give her the benefit of the doubt and get to know her a bit more before I formed any lasting opinions.

I was so busy reasoning with myself that I didn't realize the people around me starting to get to their feet until Alice whacked me gently over the head with a copy of the MBU Freshman Handbook.

"Earth to Bella!" she laughed, handing me the thick paper book.

I took it with a sigh, flipping through the pages absentmindedly as I stood.

"So." Rosalie's eyes flicked quickly between Alice's face and my own, "I'll meet you in your dorm in five?"

My eyebrows climbed up my forehead curiously. I was looking forward to finishing unpacking and calling it an early night. I had mentally planned on scoping out my classrooms and the campus libraries tomorrow in preparation for our first day of classes on Monday. I doubted Rosalie was likely to be a particularly raucous presence, but not being privy to their plans made me feel uncomfortable.

Alice glanced at me, squinting her eyes in thought and making me feel even more uneasy. "Better make it ten."

Rosalie nodded and her lips curled into the same odd smile I'd received when I first entered the common room. I shifted my feet and glanced down at the floor, feeling awkward, and then with a flip of her hair she took off, disappearing through the heavy doors and down the hall.

"Come on," Alice said, ushering me in the same direction.

I was curious as to why she wasn't sharing her plans with Rosalie with me, but the way she pointedly avoided my gaze was making me anxious and I decided not to ask.

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	4. FOUR: The Beginning of the End

_This fic is the illegitimate child of Smeyer and Patrick Sean Smith. I don't own their property, obviously._

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_Sometimes you feel defeated_  
_ But it's ok, you're not the only one_  
_ And all the complications_  
_ And situations happen to everyone_  
_ Doesn't matter how it ended or began_  
_ Sometimes the best that you can do is change your plan_  
_ Hope you understand that I will never let you down_

**never let you down - the verve pipe**

**Chapter Four:** The Beginning of the End (And All the Good Stuff in Between)

I paced back and forth across the room running my hands through my hair absentmindedly and trying to collect my thoughts. The brothers all sat perched atop different surfaces in the living room, watching me silently as I attempted to wear a hole in the wood flooring beneath my feet. Their eyes were wide with excitement and anticipation and I had to admit, the pressures of living up to their expectations were already starting to give me a complex.

Tonight would be my first official test as Phi Chi president. It was my duty to uphold the tradition of hosting the wildest, rowdiest, most memorable return party of all the fraternities on campus. Not that the competition was exactly stiff at this point. My job was relatively easy. Our reputation preceded us and it didn't take much to draw the crowds. Most of the other Greek houses didn't even bother competing with us anymore, choosing instead to sneak over and enjoy the festivities themselves.

"Time is severely limited," I said finally, stopping mid-step and rubbing my chin. "If we want to stand out as the number one fraternity on campus, we're going to need alcohol. A lot of alcohol."

"Y'all hear that? A _lot _of alcohol," Emmett echoed, throwing me a supportive wink.

"Yes," I continued seriously. "A lot of alcohol. We're talking enough alcohol to incapacitate David Hasselhoff." I crossed my arms over my chest and surveyed the fifteen or so pairs of captivated eyes that looked back at me. "Jacob, do you think can you handle the job?"

I pointed my finger out at an eager-looking brother who was crouched on the floor by the coffeetable. Immediately, he sprang up to his feet, clapping his hands together and nodding as though he'd been awaiting my request all along.

"I'm on it!" The tan-skinned, overly enthusiastic sophomore grinned and gave me a thumbs up. "I got us covered."

"Good." I lifted an eyebrow as I shot Emmett a meaningful glance. "We wouldn't want to relive the Odule's debacle of oh-seven, now would we?"

Emmett's face fell and he kicked his heel against the leg of the brown, tattered armchair. "Who knew Odule's had no alcohol," he grumbled, crossing his arms defensively and drawing a collective chuckle from the other boys.

"Everyone, Emmett. Everyone," I answered, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Although, I must admit it was entertaining to watch those Tri Pis stumble around slurring their words. Quite the social experiment." I laughed as I reached into my back pocket and grabbed my wallet. I flipped the leather flap open and slid out a shiny silver card. "Just sign as me," I said, tossing the card to Jacob. "_C_-U-L-L-E-N." I gave Emmett another pointed glare, which he answered by flipping me off. I laughed then returned to the task at hand.

"Ok. So now, all we need-" I was interrupted mid-sentence by the sound of the front door creaking open. All heads in attendance turned towards the foyer to see our new arrival.

For a moment the hall remained empty, but then Jasper Hale moved into the house lugging a giant, overstuffed suitcase behind him. He sighed and flipped his blonde hair back off his forehead with a grin. I returned it with a wide one of my own then quickly turned back to the brothers.

"You, cups. You, ice. You, jello mix." I quickly and efficiently doled out the remaining jobs to the brothers, pointing to each one as I mentally ticked off the remaining responsibilities. "And since we do not yet have the privilege of new pledges, the rest of you are on cleaning duty. That includes bathrooms," I added over the slew of groans my addendum received.

I left my audience then, their attention now pre-occupied with their chores, and moved to help my little brother with his things.

"Nice of you to show up!" I said, slapping a hand enthusiastically against his back. Emmett was right on my heels, grabbing his shoulders and shaking vigorously before pulling him into a hug that lifted him up off his feet.

"Sorry, Mr. President," he laughed, emphasizing my new moniker sarcastically as Emmett released him. "Some of us were busy advancing our prospective careers this summer. Not everyone has a cushy trust fund waiting for them after graduation, you know?"

Had it been anyone other than Jasper or Emmett making the jab at my financially stable future, I would have told them just where to stick their prospective careers. Instead, I shook my head and gave Jasper a playful shove.

"Bullshit," I answered, remembering the internship Jasper had taken over the summer. "You were getting coffee and making copies."

Emmett guffawed and nudged me in the side. "He was busy being the bitch all summer."

"For RCA," Jazz countered, not miffed in the slightest.

"Well," I said, pulling Jasper forward. "as the president of the equally illustrious PCK, I demand that you get your ass in here and aide in our preparations for tonight's annual 'Welcome Back' bash." I motioned towards the brother's still convened in the living room. A few of them had begun dusting and rearranging the furniture. "Need help with your stuff?"

Jasper smiled and looked down at the large suitcase sitting in the doorway. "Yeah, actually. That would be great. The rest is still in my car."

"Say no more." I nodded and turned towards the living room. "Guys, help a brother out?"

Three sophomores, Jake included, rushed towards us, knocking into each other as they fought to help Jazz with his things. I grinned and shrugged as he rolled his eyes, letting them squeeze their way through the doorway before following.

"Silly me for thinking Cullen here would actually lift a finger himself," he laughed, backing down the stairs after the other brothers.

"Pfft," Emmett nodded and laughed in agreement. "Good luck with that."

"Hey! I am perfectly capable of lifting a finger," I scoffed, narrowing my eyes. To prove the point, I flipped them off, my face twisted up in mock offense.

Jasper Hale was an enigma in the most admirable way possible. He was laid back without being complacent and exceedingly intelligent without being pompous. What he lacked in innate physical ability he made up in creativity and artistry. He was easily more mature than most in the brothers in the house, including myself. He was a musician, a history buff and a non-fiction enthusiast. He was neat, extremely organized and took on quite an ambitious course load each semester. He was really going to go places one day.

Again, as with Emmett, fate had stepped in when it came to crossing paths with Jazz. I was a sophomore and newly initiated full member of Phi Chi Kappa. Having survived the mandatory pledge period during my freshman year - which had included melting an block of ice while naked, living off liquids for a week and occasionally a bit of light gardening - I was moved to active. When I returned to MBU for a second year I was also assigned my very own little brother from the freshman year's pledge class; someone to mentor and mold and teach how to do a keg stand. It just so happened that I got Jasper Hale.

Jasper was a legacy and looked to Phi Chi Kappa for tradition first and foremost. His father had been president back in '72 and it was always an unspoken assumption that he would follow in his footsteps. Although it seemed the spirit of PCK had changed quite a bit since his father was an active, he'd insisted that this was where he needed to be.

I had seen Phi Chi as an opportunity to piss off my parents. Emmett had seen it as a party epicenter and fast track to the hottest girls on campus. Jasper had seen it as the next logical step in male Hale tradition and a web of connections that might someday put him in ahead in his career. Ironically, we'd all found much more.

It wasn't exactly love at first sight for Jazz and myself. He wrote me off as the cliché, immature frat boy and I regarded him as a boring stiff ,old beyond his years. He was nice enough and respectful almost to a fault, but he kept to himself and rarely let loose. We got along fine and talked when it was necessary, but beyond that our relationship was shallow in the beginning.

I wish I could pinpoint a turning point or highlight a dramatic moment in our history when we suddenly clicked and there were fireworks and singing forest animals, but that never happened. As brothers we spent a lot of time together and slowly I made it my mission to draw out the relaxed, unguarded Jasper I started to see glimpses of. As I slowly got to know him and began trying to reason out what made him tick, I came to actually enjoy his company rather than tolerate it and learned we shared more in common than we originally assumed.

I was no budding genius but I was a lot smarter than I let on. Jazz wasn't going to end up streaking on MTV's Spring Break but he knew how to have a good time and was hilarious to boot. When we found our middle ground, conversation was plentiful and even the spaces of silence were easy. It turns out some people aren't meant to be completely understood, but rather enjoyed as they are. I found myself less fascinated with trying to unlock Jasper Hale and more interested in just enjoying what he was willing to offer. And, over time, he let me in, without my constant prying.

Although I was in a higher position as his mentor, he became somewhat of a conscience for me and his wise, analytical ways that I had once found boring and stuffy were now something I appreciated and admired. I valued his opinions and sought his guidance and could only hope it was a mutual feeling.

Of course, that's not to say everything between us was constantly deep and meaningful. We often annoyed the shit out of each other and argued and pushed each others buttons in the ways only good friends know how.

Enter stage right, Emmett McCarty, the center point of our balance.

The saying 'three's a crowd' never applied to us. We all complicated each other, as fucking girlie as that sounds. We each brought something different to the table, something the others were lacking or needing. For lack of a more profound explanation - we just _worked._ We were brothers through and through, with a complex relationship and an unfathomable bond that rivaled family. At least, it kicked the shit out of any family I'd ever known. Regardless, it was something unexpected, for all of us, and while it was our differences that made us compatible it was the shared sense of belonging and values that made us inseparable. Of course, such sentimental declarations were saved for personal reflection, grandiose interior monologue and the occasional 4am drunken confession, rarely to be said aloud for fear of tarnishing our macho exteriors.

"So, which room am I in?" Jasper asked, returning to the foyer with more of his bags.

"Garrett's old room," I said, motioning up the stairs. "The second on the right."

"A single as a junior? Someone might think you're playing favorites."

I laughed and reached out to take one of his bags. "You've had to put up with me more than anyone here. I think they'll all agree you deserve it."

Jasper snorted as he started up the stairs. "If that's the exchange rate for rooms, it'd better have a mini bar, a flat screen and a view overlooking the park."

The back and forth banter was like old times and I couldn't help but once again thank the fates for aligning things as they had. Sometimes I forgot just how much I loved this place and the people who made up my Greek family. It was always especially refreshing after long, bleak summers with my _real _family. Summers that served only to suck the life and my enjoyment of it right out of me.

But I wasn't going to waste anymore precious time harping on that.

Now that Jasper was here and everyone was finally officially together, I had a party to plan.

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	5. FIVE: The Art of Avoidance

Hello!! So, FFN failed me and didn't properly send out notifications for my last update. Boo! Hiss! Hopefully this one goes right.

Thank you again for reading. I do hope y'all will take a few seconds to review! \o/

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is mine._

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_Take your hesitance_

_And your self-defense_

_Leave them behind, it's only life_

_Don't be so afraid_

_Of facing everyday_

_Just take your time, it's only life_

_I'll be your stepping-stone_

_No, don't be so alone_

_Just hold on tight, it's only life_

**it's only life - kate voegele**

**Chapter Five:** The Art of Avoidance and Knowing When To Give In

"Alice, no." I rose from my position on the floor where I had been crouched over a half-filled plastic box of clothes. I crossed my arms over my chest, hating the whine in my voice. "_Hell_, no," I repeated, more forcefully this time.

Alice mirrored my pose from across the room, her own arms tucked in what she wrongly assumed was an intimidating pose. Her bottom lip protruded petulantly. "Please, Bella! It will be fun!"

"Maybe tomorrow night," I offered, hoping the possibility of compromise would quell her pleas - as if Alice even knew the word compromise. "We'll be here all year. It's not like this is the one and only chance we'll ever have to meet Rosalie's boyfriend."

The minute we'd left the hall and entered our dorm room, Alice had descended upon me like some social-conscious hawk with plans to walk across campus to meet Emmett. At first I had no idea who she was talking about, but apparently, as she reminded me, it was Rosalie's boyfriend - the one she'd told me wasn't living in our dorm.

As she chattered on, I hadn't expected the plans to include me and I can't say I minded. Trekking God knows where to meet some boy who dated our neighbor, whom I'd met only hours ago, was something I had absolutely no desire to partake in at the present moment in time. But apparently, I was to be included.

"Well, honestly Bella, what else are you going to do?"

"I'm tired," I reasoned with a sigh. "And I've got a lot more unpacking to do."

Alice rolled her eyes with a huff and walked over to where I stood, jaw set. Before I could get any words out of my mouth, she'd bent down and scooped up all the remaining clothing in the box.

"What are you doing?" I exclaimed, finding my voice as she moved over to my dresser.

"Freeing up your night," she answered, pulling the bottom drawer open with her foot. She unceremoniously let the bundle of shirts fall from her arms. "There. You're finished unpacking."

The slightly obsessive compulsive part of me seethed as she kicked the drawer closed, forcing it shut despite it's overfilling of unfolded clothing and stray shirt arms.

I hugged my torso like a reprimanded toddler. "Well, I'm still tired," I sniffed.

"We'll get you some coffee."

I opened my mouth to protest again, but my train of thought was suddenly derailed by a sharp knock on our door, which was already propped open. My attention was diverted away from Alice and redirected towards the source of the interruption - Rosalie. Standing in our doorway with the florescent hallway lighting behind her, she looked like she was about to strut down a runway.

Her hair was still hanging in perfectly straight shiny strands like it had been when I first met her. It tumbled down over her shoulders, ending right at the neckline of the extremely low-cut grey top she had changed into. Her eyes were smudged in perfectly imperfect dark black eyeliner and her lips had been recoated in bubblegum pink gloss. A pair of skinny leg jeans that appeared painted on hung dangerously low on her waist, her hip bones jutting out provocatively over the top of a studded white belt. Tying it all together was a pair of white peep-toe pumps that looked absolutely impossible to walk in.

Well, impossible for me, at least.

Rosalie didn't seem to have any problems. She smiled at Alice and moved gracefully into the room, sinking down on the edge of my bed and crossing her long legs with a sigh.

"Not ready yet?" she asked, her eyes lingering on mine momentarily before turning her attention to Alice, who was now frantically digging through our shared closet in search of what I assumed was something to match Rosalie's current attire. Assessing the dress code, my resolve to stay in for the night tripled in strength.

"Bella doesn't want to come," Alice complained over her shoulder, pulling a miniscule jean skirt out from the depths of our jammed closet.

"Oh," Rosalie answered, eyeing me with a shrug. "Well, I figured as much."

I had moved behind my desk and was fidgeting with a package of ballpoint pens, doing my best to fade into the background, but Rosalie's off-handed comment had thrown me right back into the conversation, complete with flushed cheeks.

"What does that mean?" I asked, my fingers curling tightly around the plastic bag of pens.

"Nothing. It's fine. Me and Alice will just go." She offered me a smug smile that I was certain lacked any friendliness this time around and waved me off with her stupid manicured fingers as a sharp sting of unwarranted jealously flashed white hot through my stomach.

Alice, who was either ignoring our exchange or completely oblivious, was pulling a dark green graphic tee-shirt down around her midsection that read "Lover Not A Fighter" while shoving her feet into a pair of white stiletto sandals. I could tell by her frantic motions that she was excited to be going out and the unexpected spark of envy in my gut flared up.

"Is this okay?" Alice asked, posing with her hand her hip, her head tilted to the side.

I opened my mouth to tell her I thought it was a little much, but before I could vocalize the thought, Rosalie stood clapping her hands together in approval.

"You look great," she gushed. "Here, use some of this. It's perfect for your complexion and your lips will just pop!" She reached into the back pocket of her impossibly tight jeans and withdrew a small cylinder, the contents of which matched the shade of gloss coating her own pout.

Alice took it with a squeak and began applying it while my opinion of her outfit went unheard and undesired. I sighed inwardly, weighing my options, but ultimately knowing that I now wanted, or perhaps needed, to go with them.

It wasn't as though I hadn't expected Alice to make new friends in college. It was actually quite the opposite. I suppose I had just wrongly assumed it would take a bit more time, or at the very least, I'd be included. Not that I didn't feel included. After all, I'd just spent a good fifteen minutes trying to convince Alice _not_ to include me. But with Rosalie here now _helping _convince Alice not to include me - well, it changed things.

In high school, Alice had been popular and even those put off by her constant cheer and unending exuberance were careful to keep their opinions to themselves, less they be removed from the center of the social circle at Forks High. Truthfully though, regardless of high school hierarchy, most often she was genuinely adored.

Of course, I wasn't exactly a social pariah myself, but my social skills positively paled in comparison to the raven haired Forks High Prom Queen. And what was more was the fact that I never had to sharpen them. Being best friends with Alice Brandon meant you were immediately excepted and included.

I guess my problem had to do with letting go. I wanted to have fun, really. I wanted to not care about the proximity of the campus libraries to my classes. I wanted to leave my drawers filled with a messy, unfolded heaps of clothing. I just…couldn't.

A self-proclaimed control freak due to my abnormal upbringing and desperate desire to succeed made me a perfectionist. I knew there were some deep-seated psychological issues pertaining to my necessity to grow up too quickly, but I already knew that bill would be directed to my mother and I had absolutely no desire to ever seek professional opinion.

My thoughts were broken by a pair of giggles, the cause of the laughter completely unbeknown to me, and as I watched Alice and Rosalie chat excitedly in front of the dresser mirror, the green-eyed monster in my gut reared it's head. Before I could force myself to stop, words were falling out from between my lips.

"I think I'll come."

The giggling quieted and two pairs of eyes were on me - one hazel set belonging to a face that was grinning madly, the other, an icy blue set, wide with obvious surprise.

"Yay!" Alice cheered, moving past Rosalie and grabbing my arm. "I really didn't want to go without you!"

As she pulled me over to the closet, ignoring the shocked expression still etched across Rosalie's face, I felt a small sense of satisfaction. Unfortunately, this feeling was short-lived because just seconds later Alice was pushing a pair of tiny jean shorts into my arms.

"You're joking," I said, holding up the offending article of clothing belonging to my best friend. The crotch hung down lower than the actual legs of the shorts. The was absolutely no way in hell I was wearing these out of our dorm room, if at all, ever.

"Come on, Bella!" Alice begged, but this was one argument I was not losing.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I asked, tossing the denim shorts over her shoulder and back into the closet, secretly hoping they never resurfaced again. "We're just going to meet some guy, right? And he isn't even available."

Behind me, Rosalie snickered and Alice chewed on her bottom lip looking at the floor. Immediately, I put two and two together and realized there was more to this little adventure than had been originally presented. Emmett probably had a roommate.

Still, I didn't think I looked that bad; not that I was in the market for a boy anyway. I glanced down my front for a quick assessment. Sure, my jeans were a size too big and a bit baggy as a result, but I'd wanted to be comfortable while moving and unpacking all my things. And actually, the dark blue and white plaid belt holding them above my hips was quite cute if I did say so myself. Maybe the faded Newton's Outfitters tee-shirt I was wearing could be swapped for something a bit nicer.

"Jeans at least?" Alice wasn't giving up as easily as I'd hoped and behind us Rosalie huffed impatiently.

"I am wearing jeans," I grumbled, but I'd already resigned to the fact that a compromise was in order if we were ever going to get out of here. And the sooner we got out of here, the sooner we could get back. At least I'd dodged the tiny scrap of material that was the world's tiniest denim shorts.

"Here." After rummaging through the closet again, Alice turned and tossed a pair of black jeans to me. Relieved that it was actually an article of my own clothing, I quickly began undressing before she changed her mind and pulled out something ridiculous instead.

"This too." As I buttoned the jeans, Alice held out a thin, blue tee-shirt. Surprised by the apparent lack of cleavage or midriff exposure offered by the garment, I pulled it quickly over my head. Of course, I hadn't expected it to be as skin tight as it turned out to be, sticking to every dip and curve of my torso, but at least now I was dressed and we could get going.

"Finally," Rosalie breathed, moving towards the door with a flip of her hair. I quickly pulled my fingers through my own tangled tresses, hoping it looked okay, but not caring a whole lot.

It didn't escape my attention that Rosalie didn't offer me the coveted pink lipgloss, but I'd expected as much. 

* * *

I was glad I had stuck with a simple pair of flip-flops, despite Alice's last second attempts to stuff my feet into a pair of wedge sandals. The chic, high-heeled shoes my female companions adorned looked awfully uncomfortable and ill-fitted for trekking across campus. Of course, Alice had repeatedly reminded me throughout our history that 'beauty was pain', usually while tugging at my hair with some three-pronged, torture device.

"I hope his roommate doesn't mind," I stated offhandedly, following Rosalie and Alice quickly down the sidewalk, surprised to be trailing in my sensible footwear.

"Roommate?" Rosalie stopped short and turned to face me. Lifting an eyebrow in amusement she laughed dryly. "Bella, Emmett lives with-"

"Roommates!" Alice finished, giving Rosalie a pointed, pleading stare. "More than one. Emmett lives with roommates."

Alice and Rosalie exchanged glances that I didn't understand and I felt a sudden twinge of nervousness. There was something odd about the entire situation and as we'd walked further and further away from the residential area of campus I'd been becoming increasingly anxious.

"Oh," I mumbled, figuring nothing more would be offered at this point.

I was correct; the two girls had already turned and continued walking, mumbling in hushed voices I couldn't understand. Besides my increasing uneasiness, I was beginning to feel like a third-wheel and I wondered why Alice had been so insistent on dragging me along in the first place.

I tried to relax as we walked, but after ten more minutes of trudging farther across campus and the increasing scarcity of college affiliated buildings, I felt something just wasn't adding up. We'd already left the designated housing area far behind us, but as I was still unfamiliar with the University I figured their might be another cluster of dorms in the direction we were heading. It wasn't until we made a sharp left onto a street lined with Victorian-style houses that the truth began to sink in.

The warning bells in my head went off as I gazed down the street spotted with groups college students talking and laughing loudly. Most of the houses boasted large, wooden, painted cutouts of Greek letters and had illuminated porches where even more people had convened, leaning against the railings, chatting and sipping from plastic cups. A faint mix of music beats echoed out from open windows.

Silently, I prayed this was a misunderstanding. I hoped desperately, beyond all reason, that we'd keep walking to the end of the block. Maybe we'd make a right and be back on some removed stretch of campus with a dorm mimicking our own. Maybe I was assuming things too soon.

I was lost in thought and rationalization and frantic wishing, so when Alice stopped short in front of me I slammed into her back, hard. I was about to lash out in annoyance, my anger fueled by my fears, but my words settled like a lump in my throat. At first all I saw was Alice's small face, her bottom lip worried between her teeth as she tugged nervously on her hair, but then my eyes focused beyond the back of her head and up at the three-story, multi-layered house we stood before. My time for hope in coincidence had come to an end.

"A fraternity!? Alice! Emmett lives in a fraternity house?" I groaned and smacked my palm against my forehead. "Are you joking? Please be joking."

Alice shrugged silently, frowning at my response and fidgeting her fingers through her short crop of black, layered hair as Rosalie turned to face me as well, hands on her hips.

"Yes. A fraternity. Is that a problem?" she asked, flipping her hair back over her shoulder with a smirk.

I felt my eyes narrow slightly and I opened my mouth, ready to tell her exactly what I thought of fraternities, but Alice was suddenly in front of me, blocking Rosalie from my view.

"No, she's fine," she answered quickly, before I had a chance to speak for myself. She grab my arm and pulled my attention away from Rosalie, looking pleadingly into my eyes. "Please, Bella. We won't stay long," she whispered, tugging my forearm. "It will be fun!"

I rolled my eyes. Fun?

"Do you know what kind of boys join fraternities?" I hissed, glaring at the rickety house in front of us. The paint was chipping and the porch was so shabby it ought to have been condemned. There were two broken windows on the second floor that were currently being held together by what appeared to be masking tape and a large, ugly, circa-1970's couch sitting smack-dab in the center of the walkway leading up to the front door.

Rosalie's eyebrows inched up her forehead and she leaned towards us, listening in on our conversation. She was obviously still interested in my assessment of what qualities constituted a frat boy. I realized then that vocalizing my distaste for frat boys, I would be offending Emmett, whom I had not yet met and was very sure Rosalie would not like me offending. I swallowed hard hoping I wouldn't have to share my thoughts. Luckily, Alice interjected her own opinion.

"Fun, friendly members of the opposite sex interested in aiding charities, the bonds of brotherhood and sporting pastel colored sweater-vests branded with Greek letters?" she offered with a large, hopeful grin, ticking the list off on her fingers.

"A little more emphasis on the sex and a little less on the pastels," I mumbled, but I already knew I'd been beat. I couldn't outwardly criticize fraternities without offending Rosalie and she certainly didn't seem like the type to take criticism lightly. I sighed in defeat, eliciting a high pitched squeal from Alice, who clapped her hands together and began bouncing up and down in excitement.

"It will be fun, Bella! Just relax and you'll see!" Alice continued bouncing, now gripping my arm and shaking me along with her. Beside us, Rosalie snorted and rolled her eyes.

For some irrational reason her reaction irked me. I was already way out of my comfort zone. I didn't need any of her passive aggressing gestures trying to unnerve me more. Pulling my arm free from Alice's grasp, I turned towards Rosalie, squaring my shoulders and jutting out my chin. I'd already had quite enough of her dismissing me and smirking at me and rolling her eyes at me.

"What?" I asked, defensively crossing my arms over my chest.

Rosalie simply smiled sweetly and sighed. "Well, it's just that you don't exactly strike me as the 'relax and have fun' type," she answered, running her hands through her long, perfectly straightened curtain of hair with another one of those damn infuriating smirks.

My arms unfolded and fell limply to my sides.

"For your information I am perfectly capable of having fun. Lots of it actually," I protested, looking to Alice for back up. Much to my dismay, Alice shrugged and diverted her attention to a crack in the sidewalk which she began idly scraping at with the toe of her sandal. My jaw fell open slightly as I mentally pleaded with her to look up and set Rosalie straight and offer me some support. But she did not. She glanced up at me with a small smile, but it wasn't nearly enough. I almost stomped my foot like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Maybe I'm wrong then," Rosalie taunted. "Guess we'll find out tonight, huh?"

My face flamed in nervous embarrassment, but I nodded sharply. I knew I had nothing to prove to Rosalie, but Alice's agreement by avoidance had hurt. I knew I wasn't a crazy party girl, but I'd always considered myself a good time.

"So, are we going to go in or just stand out here all night?" Rosalie asked, gesturing up the front steps.

I sighed, feeling Alice's expectant eyes on me, and nodded stiffly, meeting Rosalie's gaze. "Lead the way."

Rosalie lead us up the battered, wooden front porch steps and, without hesitation, pushed open the front door. I thought it rude of her not to knock, but once we crossed the threshold into the house, I realized a gunshot would have been dwarfed by the sound and intensity of the party before us.

Silently, Rosalie tossed her hair over her shoulder and scanned the room, her lips pressed tightly together. A boy leaning against the doorframe near us cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled 'hey, Em, your girl is here." Moments later a tall, broad-shouldered male pushed through the crowd with an enormous grin.

"Rosie!" he hollered over the din.

When he'd made it through the sea of people to where we stood, he pulled Rosalie to him, hugging her so tightly that her white, heeled sandals left the floor. She kissed his cheek and grinned smiled with a sincerity I hadn't yet witnessed. When he placed her back gently onto her feet she turned, motioning towards Alice and me.

"Emmett, this is Alice and Bella. Alice and Bella, Emmett." Rosalie's face practically glowed as she made the introductions, lacing her fingers through his. It was obvious that she was positively smitten with him and the show of happy, loving emotion made me soften to her slightly. Very slightly.

"Well, hello there ladies," he greeted us. I made to offer my hand out to him, but before I could extend my arm he pulled me into a rough embrace, crushing the air out of my lungs. After the suffocating squeeze he released me, then did the same to Alice who giggled loudly.

"So, what can I get you all? Beer, beer or beer?" he asked, snaking an arm affectionately around Rosalie's shoulders.

"I'll take a beer, please," Alice answered, blinking so quickly I thought her head might explode from excitement.

Then Emmett's eyes moved to me. "And you?"

I considered his offer briefly, but decided against it. It was only my first day on campus after all and I didn't plan on staying long - whether Alice left with me or not. I wouldn't have minded a water, but that hadn't been one of the choices and I didn't want to embarrass myself.

"I'm good right now. Thanks," I replied, hearing a small snicker from the blonde at his side. I felt my face get hot, but internally rationalized that I didn't need alcohol to have fun.

Emmett, however, was unfazed by my decision. He simply nodded and grinned before pressing a kiss against Rosalie's forehead and then disappearing back into the crowd.

Beside me, Alice clutched my arm, her head swiveling around the room in what I assumed was an attempt to take it all in. Slowly, I did the same, inspecting my surroundings.

At first glance the only thing that really registered was the sheer amount of people occupying the space. College students covered every free surface; sitting on the stairs, leaning against doorways and perched atop a pool table that had definitely seen better days. There were boys in everything from button ups to pajama bottoms. Most of the girls mimicked Rosalie in dress, done up with strategically ripped clothing, always tossing their heads back in exaggerated laughter as they eyed their competition like territorial vultures.

Next, I noticed that there were very few pieces of actual furniture. The living room area that we had moved into from the foyer housed a brown leather armchair and an overstuffed blue couch. There was a short, dark wood coffee table littered with cups, bottle caps and a fanned out deck of cards. The wall across from us donned a large, ornate fireplace. The walls were bare save for a faded, light blue striped wallpaper and a few black and white photographs of groups of men posing with the house as a back drop. Right beside my head hung a plaque boasting past Phi Chi presidents. I leaned closer to inspect the gold plates and read the most recent - 2005 Benjamin Munn. The slot reserved for 2006 had not yet been filled.

"Here you go." Emmett had returned with the beverages, handing one bottle to Alice then the other to Rosalie before excusing himself and disappearing into the throng of people once again.

Rosalie took a long swallow of her beer, but beside me, Alice was frozen. Her eyes were staring straight ahead, unblinking and her fingers were beginning to dig painfully into the flesh on my forearm where she gripped me.

"Alice?" I asked, shaking my arm free and trying to follow her gaze.

Rosalie twisted too, following the direction of Alice's line of sight, spotting the dark blonde haired boy sitting on the stairs at the same time as I did. He was hunched over a guitar, fiddling with the strings, holding a plastic cup by the rim with his teeth.

"Oh, Jasper?" Rosalie laughed, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Jasper," Alice repeated slowly, as though it were some foreign word she didn't understand. Then she nodded and leaned forward as though the extra three inches of closeness might help her to see him better. "Jasper," she repeated.

"Mmhm. Jasper is, well," Rosalie tilted her head thoughtfully as she studied Alice. I could see she was searching for a proper description and I doubted the one she settled on was forefront in her mind. "Well, he is available. That's one thing."

Alice's grin widened and she released my arm only to latch onto Rosalie's. I gritted my jaw and tried to ignore the bubble of jealousy that threatened to boil up into my throat.

"Do you want to meet him?"

Immediately, Alice's expression grew serious, though her eyes still sparkled with excitement. "I don't know. I don't want to bother him or anything. Do you know him?"

"Yeah, I know him," Rosalie answered with a short nod. "He's in Phi Chi. A junior."

Alice shifted from one heel to the other as she watched him, chewing on her bottom lip in thought. She rubbed her palms against the front of her skirt and sighed.

"Oh, come on. It's a party. You won't be bothering him," Rosalie insisted. "Besides. Jasper could use some bothering if you ask me."

I was strangely satisfied when Alice turned to look at me for encouragement, shrugging slightly and grinning sheepishly, silently asking for my blessing.

But just as quickly as I'd felt smug, I chastised myself. This moment wasn't about me, it was about Alice. As much as I selfishly wanted to keep Alice to myself, my competitive spirit was never awakened when it came to boys. Not that I didn't get attention from boys, because I did. Unfortunately. The difference between Alice and me, when it came to boys, was that she often desired said attention whereas I was mostly uninterested. So why was I being so territorial now? This was all backwards.

I sighed heavily, realizing exactly what was happening here. Alice was _my _best friend and I was counting everything as a contest against Rosalie. Things were going too far, fast. I wasn't being a good friend. I wasn't really being a good _person._ Internally, I forced the coil in my gut to unwind.

"Go for it!" I smiled brightly and gently pushed her shoulder forward. "He's cute!" I added, though I could barely see his face behind his long hair from here.

Releasing a whoosh of air, Alice clapped her hands together.

"I look ok?" she asked, glancing down her front and running her fingers through her hair.

"Gorgeous," I answered, not missing that she'd asked my opinion and not Rosalie's when it really mattered. Screw it. For the time being it made me irrationally happy.

My high, however, was pathetically short-lived.

"Ok, let's go." Rosalie began pulling Alice towards the stairs. "We'll be right back," she tossed over her shoulder, making it abundantly clear I wasn't invited over for introductions.

Sighing, I leaned back against the wall and watched the back of their heads move across the room. Then I crossed my arms and stared down at the floor, sulking. It was easier to ignore how awkward and alone I was feeling without meeting the curious stares of those around me. I was used to being the weird new girl and knew avoidance was the best method of dealing with probing eyes. Bitterly, as I followed the lines in the wood beneath my feet, I wondered if I was being fun yet.

"Hey, do you need anything?"

My head snapped up and I found Emmett standing in front of me, his head tilted to the side and a beer in his left hand.

"No," I answered curtly, then added, "Thank you." There was certainly no reason to be rude when he had been nothing but warm in welcoming me. My sour mood was not his doing.

"Nothing at all?" he pressed, moving to lean against the wall next to me. As he rested his shoulders back he offered me his beer, holding it out with a nod. I eyed the bottle before sighing and shaking my head. I was more certain than ever that I wouldn't be staying long.

"So, you don't drink," Emmet said, stating as it a fact rather than a question.

Feeling blood pool in my cheeks I dropped my arms to my side in exasperation. What was the big deal about drinking? Still, I took the bait. "I drink." I sniffed indignantly.

He stared at me for a few seconds before chuckling and taking a slow swig. I could see he didn't believe me and I didn't know why I cared.

"So Rosie says you're smart."

"She said I was smart?" I asked skeptically, studying his face to see if he was serious.

"More or less." He grinned and I sighed, letting my eyes drop. She knew nothing about me academically as far as I knew. She had probably told him I was a nerd or something equally unflattering and he was twisting it to sound nice. Or maybe they had spoken before the floor meeting, after I'd first been introduced to her when she'd seemed friendly. I wondered where along the line exactly our new relationship had taken a sharp turn off track - if we'd ever been on it in the first place.

"I do alright in classes," I offered modestly, my fingers moving to fidget with the wavy ends of my hair. Fleetingly, I wished I'd taken the ten extra seconds to tug a brush through the tangled tresses before we'd left the dorm.

"Is that why you don't drink?" Emmett asked, smirking over the top of his bottle as he took another sip.

Thoroughly frustrated with the entire situation I rolled my eyes. Then in a gesture that surprised even myself, I reached out and grabbed the bottle from his hand. I brought it to my lips and took a big gulp. I watched his eyes grow wide as I slowly swallowed the warm, bitter liquid.

"You know," I said, after taking another long sip, "people do have fun without drinking. Alcohol was even illegal in the nineteen twenties."

See, I could drink and be smart all at the same time.

Emmett cocked an eyebrow and playful pulled the beer out of my hand. "Is that why they called it the Great Depression?"

I laughed, not quite sure if he was trying to be funny, but unable to contain myself either way. I thought of correcting him, but I couldn't seem to care. I liked Emmett, despite the fact that he seemed to embody the stereotypical frat boy I earlier admitted to loathing.

Unexpectedly, I felt myself relax. Maybe I wasn't as horrible at making friends as I'd originally believed. After all, Emmett seemed to like me just fine and that was without Alice's help. I felt a little less like an awkward social outcast and a little more like a normal college student. Just a little. After I'd quieted my laughter, I sighed and tucked my hair behind my ears. My first day at college was nothing like I'd expected. Not in a million years.

"Well, go on. Spill it," Emmett said suddenly, waving a palm in front of my unfocused vision. I shook my head, realizing I'd zoned out and crunched my eyebrows together in confusion.

"What?"

"You just seem like you could use an ear."

"Oh," I mumbled, glancing over towards the stairs.

The boy named Jasper was now standing, looking slightly stiff as he pushed his hair back, though his lips were pulled into a seemingly genuine smile. Alice was talking animatedly as usual, her hands moving wildly as her head bobbed with obvious excitement. Rosalie looked on, nodding and laughing along with the conversation, hands on her hips as though she were posing for a photoshoot.

"It's complicated," I sighed, focusing my attention back on Emmett.

Oddly, I wanted to trust him. I had the overwhelming urge to spout out all the annoyances and anxiety I had experienced over the past twenty-four hours, right here, in the corner of this crowded frat house, surrounded by intoxicated boys and girls who were pretending to be. He didn't know me. He didn't know my history. He'd be a neutral party. Except, he not. There was one large and problematic conflict of interests. His loyalties belonged to the most prominent source of my current insecurities.

He didn't press me. Rather he nodded then leaned his head back, watching the people milling around the room. It made me want to confide in him all the more. Twisting my fingers around the belt loops of my jeans, I caved, revealing my most recent concern, strategically omitting Rosalie's specific involvement.

"Apparently, my best friend doesn't think I'm as good a time as I thought she did. Let's just say I was brought here blindly, under much different pretenses than a fraternity party." Involuntarily, my nose wrinkled in disgust and I was relieved when he laughed heartily, rather then appeared offended. "So, yes. Here I am, completely out of my element and hell-bent on showing her that I can have fun." I glanced across the room at Alice again before shrugging.

"So, you're out to prove you can be fun?" Emmett asked, tilting his head thoughtfully.

I nodded.

"Isn't that...I don't know...defeating the purpose? Shouldn't you just be fun without having to try?"

I considered his words for a moment before sticking my tongue out at him and crossing my arms. He was right.

"Well, Bella it's your lucky night. I just happen to be the funnest person I know."

"Funnest?" I echoed, though my thoughts were more focused on the devious, child-like gleam in his eye rather then his misuse of proper grammar.

"Yes. And, I'm going to make sure you have a great time," he continued on, reaching into the pocket of his khaki cargo shorts. "I have one word for you. Beer pong."

When he pulled out his hand, a plastic ping pong ball rested on his palm. He bounced it up and down a few times before gently tossing it in my direction.

"Two," I corrected automatically, catching the small plastic ball awkwardly with both hands. When he didn't say any more, I laughed nervously and shook my head.

"I don't think so." I held the ball out for him to take it, but he backed away grinning.

"Emmett, really, no," I pleaded, trying to press the plastic sphere into his hand. "That's a bad, bad idea."

He licked his lips excitedly. "It's a terrific idea. Trust me."

"Trust you?" I snorted dubiously. "I don't even know you!"

And, obviously, Emmett didn't know me either. The fact that he assumed I could handle this simple recreational activity without injury or embarrassment was a testament to that. I was fairly certain making a fool of myself would detract from any attempts at being fun. Then again, my physical awkwardness had been a constant source of entertainment for my peers in gym classes. If public humiliation provided others with a good time, albeit at my expense, was it worth it?

No, I decided easily. Most definitely not. I could picture Rosalie's expression as she mocked me. I could hear the fraternity brothers snicker and the half-naked vultures hiss insults. There was absolutely no way I was giving in on this one.

"I don't think I like you anymore," I called, balling my hands at my sides.

"Good," he returned, wiggling his eyebrows and motioning towards a set of French doors that led to the backyard. "Then I won't feel bad when I beat you."

No way. This was so not happening.

* * *

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	6. SIX: So Much More Than I Bargained For

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is mine._

* * *

And in the end we shall achieve in time  
The thing they call divine  
And all the stars will shine for me  
When all is well and well is all for all  
Forever after  
Living in the meantime wait and see

**in the meantime - spacehog**

**Chapter Six:** This Is So Much More Than I Bargained For and One Day I'll Know It

No more than ten minutes later, I stood out in the backyard eying a blue, plastic folding table with distain. Somehow, Emmett's persuasion skills had lead me here, though I didn't actually remember ever physically making my way out to the backyard. He'd lured me somehow, with his unexpectedly friendly nature and seemingly genuine interest in me as a person and no-is-not-an-option personality. My eyes flitted down to my feet and I stared at them, feeling betrayed. They had been so easily lead astray.

_Damn feet._

My hand still held the offensive ping pong ball; all inanimate plastic and silent death sentence as it mocked me from behind my fingers. I gripped it tightly, wondering if I could possibly crush it into dust with a burst of super human strength I knew I had no hope of possessing. Surely we couldn't continue without a ball. I wondered just how many spares Emmett stored in the pockets of oh shorts.

I looked up and watched as he expertly set up the cups in a pyramid fashion on the table across from me, head bobbing to the music filtering out from the house.

Slowly, an audience began to congregate around us and my stomach became sickeningly unsettled. My heart fluttered in my chest as my mind began desperately searching for a graceful way to bow out. I was not new to public humiliation, but self-imposed public humiliation was a brand new low.

I sucked my lip between my teeth, biting so hard it was almost painful, and tried not to focus on the growing crowd surrounding the table. Their interest seemed innocent enough and the conspiracy theory that they were watching solely for entertainment at my expense was diffused by the simple fact that none of them actually knew me.

Yet.

After the atrocious lack of physical coordination I was about to demonstrate, they'd know me. I would soon become 'The Pathetic Freshman Who Dislocated Her Shoulder Playing Beer Pong' or some other ridiculously humiliating moniker based on my uncanny ability to turn even the simplest physical tasks into an opportunity for injury.

The thought of such an unfortunate first impression only cemented the fact that I needed to come up with a way to duck out, fast. Emmett was almost done perfecting the table for play. I didn't have much time.

I was contemplating going the 'not feeling well' route when something, or someone rather, crashed into me, practically knocking me to the ground. Somehow, though by no coordination of my own, we managed to cling to each other and stay upright, stumbling over each other's feet as we fought to find balance.

"Bella!"

Alice had her tiny arms wrapped around my shoulders in a death grip and her eyes were wide and excited. A pit of dread settled in the bottom of my stomach as she looked around at the circle of people that had formed and beamed.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this!"

I swallowed and forced a smile, though I was certain it came out looking more like a grimace than anything else.

"I knew _this _Bella was hiding somewhere deep down," she said, punctuating each word with a shake to my shoulders. "College Bella is freaking awesome! I love you, Bella. Thank you for coming. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the whole frat house thing. I just…I love you."

The tell-tale professions of love told me that Alice had been drinking. They still, however, served to make me feel even more uncomfortable about the situation than I'd been moments ago. I really, really wanted to show Alice that I could be fun and carefree. I didn't want to disappoint her, even though the new 'College Bella' she spoke of was a fraud.

I chewed nervously on my bottom lip and weighed the options against the resulting consequences in my head. It was, after all, the logical thing to do, and right now, logic and reasoning was something I could handle.

On the one side, Alice wanted me to be 'this Bella'. I was still hurt over the fact that she hadn't defended me against Rosalie's scathing critiques out on the street, and if I stepped out now, I'd only be further proving my inability to be a good time. Of course, the standards of what made one a good time were slightly skewed to say the least. There was no telling what would result from my attempts at playing beer pong and, really, the odds of this being a rewarding experience in any capacity were slim.

Still, Alice was my best friend. And, there was always that one in a million chance that things could end okay. In fact, if Emmett went first, I might never even have to toss the ball at all. I could just stand there, looking amused and shaking my head in mock disappointment as I met defeat without ever having to lift my arm.

Then there was the other side - the side that recalled every trip and stumble and volleyball to the face I'd experienced during my 18 long years of unfortunate uncoordination . The other side mocked me for even considering throwing myself into this willingly. Alice would remain my friend no matter what happened, even if I failed to be the College Bella she was hoping for. The people here, these potential acquaintances, would tie me to this night forever. For all intents and purposes, this was becoming my grand entrance.

"Earth-to-Bella!" Alice called, waving her hand in front of my face, and I snapped back to reality.

"Hey, no partners! One-on-one!" Emmett teased from the other side of the table. He pointed at Alice and made a shooing motion and she laughed before giving me a tight squeeze.

"You're amazing," she whispered. "And don't worry. Everyone is drunk anyway. They won't remember this in the morning."

I snorted at her weak vote of confidence as she released me with a wink. Silently, I wished I was as drunk as she claimed everyone else was. I also hopped that _she _wasn't too drunk to remember this in the morning. After all, it was for her benefit.

I nodded slowly and inhaled, but my breath caught when I heard a familiar, sharp voice from across the yard.

"Oh, come on, Emmett. This is just cruel!"

I cringed and turned my head, recognizing the harsh tone immediately. I knew it was intended for me to hear and as I spotted Rosalie tugging on Emmett's arm half-heartedly, her narrowed eyes flashed to mine.

"You're letting her play? Against you? You don't have to embarrass the girl, Emmett."

My entire body stiffened and I clenched my jaw. I knew Rosalie had absolutely no concern for me whatsoever and that her little spiel was more for my embarrassment then my defense.

"Oh yeah?" Alice shouted from my side, grinning madly. "We'll see! Bella's tossing first. Let's see if Emmett even gets a chance to shoot!"

Rosalie smiled, a wide, evil smile, and I shook my head, pulling Alice back and desperately willing her to shut up. The crowd was starting to whisper and nod toward me and I felt a hard lump form in my throat.

Every fiber in my being wanted me to retreat. My hands literally shook as I denied them the desire to shoot out and latch onto Alice's forearm and beg her to take my place. I inhaled deeply through my nose and held it in my lungs while Rosalie whispered something I couldn't hear to Emmett. He rolled his eyes with exaggeration and she responded with a flip of long blonde hair before stalking off.

"I love you, too!" he called out with a chuckle, and I wondered how such a seemingly good natured soul had ended up with someone like Rosalie. Then again, I couldn't even answer the question of how I managed to land myself in the position I was in. I was hardly qualified to judge anyone else's life decisions when my current ones were proving to be so poor.

"Alright! Let's do this. Ladies shoot first," Emmett called impatiently from the other side of the table. "I don't have all night."

My hand clenched around the little plastic ball and I panicked. I spun around, ready to plead with Alice to take my spot, not caring that the audience had quieted down and was really paying attention now. I couldn't do this. It was ridiculous for anyone, especially myself, to think I could.

"Alice, I-," I started, but then I realized I was alone. I glanced around, scanning the backyard for the telltale head of black spiky hair, spotting her relatively easily. She was leaning against the porch railing, near the house a few yards away. Her eyes gleamed excitedly in the glow of the mismatched, haphazardly hung Japanese lanterns strung over the awning above her. Beside her, a boy with disheveled blonde hair - Jasper, I recognized - leaned in and whispered something she apparently found hilarious. I sighed.

I realized sadly that it was very likely that I was going to lose her. Not completely, but enough that I'd feel the impact. This was Alice's element. She belonged at the social center, surrounded by people and conversation. She would flourish here. She would make friends and have plans and inside jokes. I wouldn't be able to compete.

Just as I was finding my resolve, swallowing thickly and setting my jaw, her eyes flicked to mine and she grinned encouragingly, tossing me a thumbs up, giving me the extra push I needed.

No one else mattered, really, I decided. I would do this for Alice. She'd put herself in the oddest, most uncomfortable situations for me in the past, and I figured now was as good a time as ever to try and repay her for befriending the quiet, uninteresting new girl who was plopped in Forks two years ago.

Clearing my throat, I stepped up to the table and peered down at the amber liquid in my set of cups. I knew it was getting warmer by the second and I couldn't help but pull a face. When I looked back up, Emmett was standing across from me with his large arms crossed over his chest. He laughed and shook his head.

I couldn't prolong it any more. My decision had been made and the faster I began this self-imposed torture, the faster it would all end. With a deep breath, I lifted my hand, clutching the ball between my sweaty fingers and closed my eyes.

One.

Two.

Th-

"Whoa, hold on!"

A voice I didn't recognize interrupted my countdown and the breath I'd been holding rushed out of my lungs in a whoosh as my eyes popped open.

"What is this, McCarty? Picking on female freshman already?"

It didn't take long for me to find the owner of the mysterious voice. He was standing near Emmett, in a clearing created by the crowd, and once my eyes spotted him, I couldn't tear them away.

_Typical, Bella._

There was something wholly captivating about the boy who stood with his hands shoved in his back pockets, an eyebrow cocked curiously at my opponent who was much larger than him in size and stature. It was something beyond his painfully handsome features and playfully mussed bronze colored hair. It was something that made my pulse speed and my heart slam against my chest. It also made me feel completely ridiculous.

"Of course not, Mr. President. Just showing Bella over here a good time." Emmett waved to me from across the lawn and grinned, but I was too busy internally eye-rolling over the obviousness that this gorgeous human being _would_ be the fraternity president. I wondered what other stereotypes would be perpetuated tonight.

"A good time, huh? I'm assuming you've gone over the rules?"

Emmett's smile faltered slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "The rules? Edward, it's beer pong. It's a crime against humanity to be in your prime and not know the rules of beer pong."

The boy, who I had now deducted was named Edward, looked over at me dubiously. I felt his eyes sweep the length of my body and I unconsciously wrapped my arms around my torso. He seemed to find this amusing, because the corner of his mouth tilted up into a smirk.

Although I was feeling slightly exposed, my chin jutted out defiantly. I did, in fact, know the rules to beer pong. Just because my liver hadn't yet given me its two week notice didn't mean I lived under a rock. I had been best friends with Alice Brandon for long enough to know how to play. I considered telling him as much, but then he was walking over, towards me, and my throat was making it difficult to swallow. Stupidly, I glanced over my shoulder, hoping someone else was standing there, someone else he might be headed towards, but he stopped, just a few short steps away from me, and grinned.

_Damn it._

_

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Reviews are wonderful. Talk to me!

:)


	7. SEVEN: Every Minute is One Less Moment

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is mine._

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_I've got nostalgic pavements_  
_I've got familiar faces_  
_I've got a mixed-up memory_  
_And I've got favourite places_

**mouthwash - kate nash  
**

**Chapter Seven:** Every Minute is One Less Moment

_She's beautiful._

It was the very first thought that flashed like a neon liquor store sign in my head as I stared at her dumbly from across the yard.

I couldn't exactly define what made her beautiful. Not on the fly, anyway. Separately, her features were actually quite plain and ordinary, but together they created something unique and lovely. She wasn't particularly shapely, her brown hair was somewhat of a mess and her clothes were not revealing in the slightest. Her eyes were unspectacular, brown and slightly big for her face. Her lips were nice, full and pink, but nothing to write home about and certainly not comparable to the DSLs I'd seen in my time. Something, however, had piqued my interest. Some abstract combination of her wholesome, dime-a-dozen features was drawing me in.

It was not abnormal in the least for my first impression of a female to be based entirely on her looks. It wasn't something I was particularly proud of, but I was guilty of being a male. First impressions taken at face value were often all you had to go on and the very accurate measuring system in my pants was hard to ignore. Hell, it had lead me astray on more occasions than I was willing to count, but such was human nature and I was not one to defy the longstanding rituals of humanity. Darwinism supported the idea of matching based on genetic superiority, choosing the most attractive mate for the goodness of the world or some shit. Who was I to question Darwin?

Despite my excellent reasoning skills and ability to justify just about anything, her overall appearance and my immediate response were not adding up in my brain. Nothing about this girl was breathtaking, and yet she was pulling me in. It was intriguing, puzzling almost, and it made it difficult to look away. She was like one of those frustrating magic eye pictures. If you focused your eyes correctly, something completely unexpected popped out from the fuzzy blur of colors. However, for fear of coming across as an enormous creep, I managed to tear my eyes off her face. And by face, I mean chest. Admittedly male; so sue me.

I was pretty confident that she was familiar with the basics of the game, at the very least, but an in depth explanation gave me a reason to go over and inspect her more closely. I was convinced that once I could get a better look, I'd find a flaw in her ordinary yet maddeningly captivating attractiveness. I was also aware of something tugging at the edge of my brain. Something that told me pursuing her would require a fair amount of effort and I didn't have the time to that tonight. It would be better to nip this in the bud as quickly as possible.

Tonight was different. Besides my apparent new attention to unconventionally-attractive-but-really-quite-plain females, I was holding back on my alcohol intake. As president, it was my responsibility to see that things didn't get too crazy, or worse, boring. Seeing as it was only my first party in my new place of power, I wasn't comfortable letting loose myself just yet. Tonight would set the bar for the rest of the year, and although things seemed to be living up to Phi Chi move-in weekend standards, I needed to be at my best, should things take a turn for the worse.

I was also scoping out potential pledges. There was a freshman in the kitchen who was exhibiting the requisite Phi Chi charisma by maintaining the rapt attention of four shapely blondes while he waxed philosophic over the differences between beer and ale. He was my current primary target and the captivator of my interests, as much as it pained me to say so. It seemed that every female freshman at MBU had come to see if the hype was true; to see for themselves if the fraternity lived up to its reputation and I had spent the better part of the night with a hard-on over a guy in a tight Lacrosse tee-shirt who shot-gunned a Miller Lite… in a bottle. For the good of the house. Obviously.

The entire situation was made entirely more complicated when I crossed the grass to find that unextraordinary brown eyes was just as stunning at close range as she had been to me from the other side of the yard. Odd. Annoying.

"Edward Cullen," I said, offering my hand and a large grin. This particular smile, which I had been perfecting over many years, achieved one of two things. Either it got me out of trouble - melting the cold hardened hearts of stuffy school councilors, snub-nosed professors and once a particularly sweaty officer of the law- or it dropped panties. These results were of course limited to women. Mostly.

Curiously, the girl in front of me hesitated before giving me hers, which was sweaty and hot in my grip, her lips pressed into a tight line. She seemed distracted. Her eyes darted around the backyard, landing everywhere but on mine, and I felt my grin widen. Her avoidance made it apparent I had flustered her.

"Bella Swan." Her voice was soft and unsure, as though she was asking rather than assertively giving me her name. I studied her face, my forehead creasing as her eyes continued to dance between the grass and the table. I cleared my throat.

"So, you think you've got what it takes to take on Emmett over there?" I pointed a thumb over my shoulder and her face visibly paled, her mouth drawing into a frown. She tugged at the ends of her hair nervously, twirling strands tightly around her fingers. I cocked an eyebrow curiously and studied her expression. Maybe she _didn't_ know how to play.

"It's really a simple game," I offered, holding my hand out, palm up. She got the cue and slowly placed the little plastic ball there. "You just aim for Emmett's cups and throw. If you sink one, he drinks it. You keep shooting until you miss. You don't want to miss. You miss, Emmett throws and _you_ drink."

Her eyes widened and then suddenly narrowed as she snatched the ball back and closed a tiny fist around it.

"I know how to play, thank you." Her voice was sharp, but the way she glanced down and shifted on her feet gave her nerves away. I laughed softly, finding her anxiousness strangely endearing. It was just game and a few cups of warm, watered down off-brand beer. It wasn't a big deal if she lost, which she would. Emmett was good. Really good.

"Alright, Ms. Swan." I shrugged and took a step back, holding my hands up in surrender. "So then you know if you sink it in Emmett's last cup, before he sinks it in yours, you emerge victorious. In this house that also means you meet your next challenger."

I contemplated dropping a smooth line, something along the lines of her sinking it in mine anytime she'd like or volunteering to challenge her next, but she snorted with dry laughter, diverting my attention. For a second I wondered if maybe I had spoken my thoughts aloud, but then she was shaking her head.

"I said I knew the rules, not that I was any good. I'm not good. I'm… I'm horrible, really. Or at least I'm pretty confident I will be. I've never actually played exactly. I've always been more of a spectator."

I tilted my head and rocked back on my heels. "Well, you never know, then. Maybe this is secretly your calling."

She laughed again, more heartily this time, and I realized idly that I liked her laugh. A Lot. A lot more than I should have. A lot more than any sane person should like something as ordinary as a laugh.

"Trust me. I don't do coordination successfully, ever. Soccer, dodge ball, softball…hula-hoop…any physical activity really-"

"Any physical activity?" I interrupted, cocking an eyebrow playfully. Her pale face flushed suddenly and she looked down, letting her long brown hair fall over her face like a curtain. My fingers itched to reach out and push it back, but that was crossing far too many lines. I didn't have time for this girl right now. I had a party to tend to and freshmen to recruit. Instead I was standing here like a little bitch, imagining how her wavy hair would feel against my fingertips and enjoying the way she laughed. I didn't have the luxury of dicking around now that I had the privilege of being president. I was letting myself be distracted.

"Well, it will be a short game then." I said quickly. My tone was much harsher than I'd intended and she looked up at me with wide, dark eyes.

I offered a small, apologetic smile which she didn't return and it only cemented my earlier belief that I didn't have time for this. This girl seemed to be effortlessly shielding my natural charm.

"Good luck," I said lamely and nodded before turning and heading back towards Emmett. I sarcastically offered him the same sentiment as I passed, slapping him on the back.

I had no intention of re-visiting the situation, nor exacerbating my involvement. I had a duty and a lot of sober ass-kissing to attend to as president. Unfortunately, as I was climbing the short set of stairs up the deck someone who's ass I most certainly did not want to kiss was coming out the back door.

I attempted to cut a quick u-turn, but I'd felt her eyes on me before I even got down the first step and then her voice froze me in place.

"Edward."

Slowly I turned back around, biting my bottom lip hard and reminding myself that the night was still far too young for me to spend the remainder of it pissed off. As she pushed through the small crowd towards me, I felt her regard me with amusement and then distaste. Typical.

"Ah, Rosalie," I slid my hands in my front pockets and tilted my head. "Funny, I thought we lined all the doorways in salt."

She scowled, placing her hands on her hips with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

"But yet, here you are." I reached out and tugged a clump of her blonde hair, causing her to shriek and slap me away. I grinned and shrugged innocently.

"I'm here for Emmett," she hissed, her eyes roaming the backyard before flicking back to me. "Not you."

"Funny. I think I saw him taking a girl upstairs. One of the Zeta Pis. Ooh, about, I don't know, two hours ago?"

Again she rolled her eyes. I marveled over the fact that they'd never fallen out of her head.

"Hilarious, Edward." She crossed her arms and pushed past me, moving down off the deck onto the grass. I wrongly assumed our first confrontation of the semester was over because just as I was about to continue on my way, she spun back around. I could see her claws come out from here.

"By the way, Dad wanted me to make sure you'd gotten all your books even though we agreed it really didn't matter. Having your books is worthless if you never go to class. Especially now that your president of Phi Chi Crap-pa."

I gritted my teeth together as her lips tilted up into a smirk.

"You did buy your books, didn't you Edward?"

The truth was that I hadn't. I'd been so busy acclimating to my new position and getting things in order at the fraternity that it had easily fallen off the list of priorities. There was no reason, of course, to tell her this.

"Yes, I did. Don't you worry your pretty little head. Even if I have no intention of actually using them, I know the importance of keeping up appearances, Rosalie." I said her name in the same way she had said mine, as though it were something disgusting. I wrinkled my nose up too, just for added emphasis.

Her eyes narrowed and we regarded each other, her in her natural defensive stance and me in my carefully mastered 'I do not give a shit' pose. Eventually she huffed, shook her head so that her blonde hair swished back and forth dramatically, then turned and went on her way.

No one standing around out on the back deck seemed to have noticed our exchange, or else they were simply too drunk to really care. Either way, I was more than happy to just forget the whole thing. I had far more important things to attend to than my brainwashed bitch of a sister…like the guy with the linebacker build who had just done a seven minute keg stand over by the grill. Pledge bait.


	8. EIGHT: All These Games That We Play

Hi all! Hope that NaNo went well for anyone who participated! I completed a (terrible) fic, but I finished and that's what's important!

To any new readers, welcome! And to someone who pointed readers to Eros from ADF, thanks! I got quite a few story alert-ers. You rock!

Characters are not mine. Mistakes are. Que Sera, Sera.

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_Brash and hopeful _  
_ That my luck will not perish tonight _  
_ When the overcast tries to kill me _  
_ It's your slow motion rain _  
_ That falls warm on my neck that keep me alive_

**the night will go as follows - the spill canvas**_  
_

**Chapter Eight: **All These Games That We Play

I stood there feeling completely off-center. It was as though the entire backyard had started spinning. This was particularly worrisome, considering I hadn't even started drinking yet.

Part of me wanted to crawl under the large folding table, curl into the fetal position and wait for Alice to decide she was ready to go back to the dorm. But, a larger part of me just wanted to get on with the game already. Not in a 'give it your all, go for the gold' kind of optimistic way, but more in a 'get this over with as quickly as humanly possible and do your very best to avoid making a spectacle of yourself' way. And all the while, the ground beneath my feet was tilting back and forth in an ominous way that spelt out imminent disaster. Normally, I'd blame this on my thoroughly skewed center of balance, but something much more frightening was responsible. The boy with the pretty eyes had approached me. He'd approached me and then he'd spoken to me and then he'd smiled in a practiced way I knew was intended to make me instantly undress and fling my body at him. But then I'd insulted him somehow.

I figured I could have been a bit more tactful in conversation and definitely more engaging. Alerting him to the fact that I was a massive klutz upon introduction was probably not something he'd cared about nor found attractive. He'd obviously intended to simply lay out the ground rules of the game, however unnecessary. Did I really come across as some homely bookworm with no possible experience in the popular pastimes of our party hard generation? Or was I over-thinking this as usual? The latter seemed far more plausible, but I couldn't seem to ignore the fact that the mood accompanying our initial introduction was far from that with which it ended. Of course, his apparent hurry to get away could have had nothing to do with me at all. Maybe he'd seen his girlfriend across the yard. Boys like Edward always had girlfriends. They had girlfriends who were just as gorgeous and popular as their counterpart.

My personal pity party, however, was relatively short-lived.

"Yo, what's the hold up over there?" Emmett called, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Not thinking I'm letting you back down, are you?"

Rosalie had resumed her place by his side, looking thoroughly disinterested as she nursed a bright blue wine cooler and twirled strands of blonde hair around her fingers. I couldn't really tell if she was putting effort into looking so utterly unimpressed or if it just came naturally. Either way, I would've felt a whole lot better if she'd gone to find entertainment elsewhere, preferably not at my expense.

"Let's go Swan. I don't have all night."

I sighed and rolled the ping pong ball between my fingers. I was a pretty intelligent girl. If I could learn to harness this intelligence and use it for physical success, maybe I wouldn't foresee such failure. After all, everything could tie back to mathematics. This ping pong ball, for example, would need to be thrown at a very precise arc to make its way into one of the plastic cups sitting on Emmett's end of the table. Of course, measurements would need to be taken and wind would need to be accounted for, not to mention the distraction of the obviously drunk, blonde boy to my left who had repeatedly stumbled within inches of our flimsy table. Maybe I could smudge the numbers a bit. Maybe.

I stepped forward and raised my hand, squinting at the table, guesstimating its length and the height of the red cups. I was feeling pretty darn confident when I drew my wrist back, then propelled it forward, releasing the ball and watching it soar across the table… and across, and across, until it bounced off Emmett's chest and fell to his feet, completely missing the cups.

Well, so much for that.

Yet, my throw hadn't been so terrible. No one had been injured and I hadn't thrown it backwards or fell into the table or anything. No one laughed or pointed, in fact, no one seemed to really be watching anymore. Even Rosalie's attention had been diverted by a tall girl with pigtails who seemed to be chattering on at a mile a minute.

Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.

Or maybe, I spoke to soon.

The good news was that I didn't have to chance throwing that horrible, little, plastic ball again. The bad news was that I didn't have to throw again because my turn never came back around. Emmett sunk the ping pong ball in every single one of my cups, in order no less, starting with the back row. By the time the game ended, I was five cups behind in drinking. My stomach was bulging with the sloshing liquid and my head was beginning to take on an odd, fuzzy sensation.

"Well, Swan, looks like that's the game," Emmett said, coming around to my side and throwing his arm over my shoulders. "Better drink up, sport." He nodded at the four, full cups of beer awaiting me on my side of the table.

I grimaced and closed my eyes. One would think that as the daughter of Charlie Swan, the man who considered the beer just as important as the boat on a 6am fishing trip, I'd be able to hold my liquor. Unfortunately, that gene was not passed down to his kin. I could already feel my head starting to swim as I grabbed the next cup and shakily brought it to my mouth. Emmett helped by tilting the bottom up with his thumb, causing the liquid to spill out around the corners of my mouth and dribble down the front of my shirt. I jumped back and dropped the cup in an awkward, sluggish manner and watched the backyard tilt. When it righted itself again, a familiar face came into view and I breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Alice!" I grabbed her hands as she approached me and squeezed them between mine.

"You're drunk," she giggled.

"What? No I'm not!"

"Yes, you are. Bella, I can tell."

I opened my mouth to deny her accusations, but ended up just shaking my head back and forth.

"Drunk," she repeated, grinning.

"Who's drunk?"

I cringed when a third voice joined our conversation and dropped Alice's hands to cross my arms defensively over my chest.

"Bella is drunk," Alice said, turning toward Rosalie.

As Rosalie studied my face, I avoided her eyes, instead scanning the increasingly rowdy group of people in the backyard. It didn't take me long to realize who I was subconsciously looking for and the thought sent me reeling.

"Maybe I am drunk," I blurted out. I didn't really believe I was, but it made me less responsible for my actions. It was impossible to believe I was rationally seeking out Edward Cullen, fraternity president and totally out of my league, green-eyed cutie.

_Cutie?_

Ugh.

Alice giggled beside me, obviously amused, while Rosalie studied me with a much more judgmental eye.

Well, fuck her.

Ok, wow. Maybe I was a tiny bit drunk.

"I think I just need to get some-"

"Beer," Emmett supplied, pushing another of my losing cups into my hands. "Rules are rules, Swan. You have to finish."

I had wanted to say water, but took the cup anyway with a sigh. I realized that I kind of liked Emmett. And he was right. According to the rules, I was supposed to drink all the remaining cups. Glancing over at the two still waiting for me at the table, I wasn't sure I'd get through them all without passing out first, but I was going to give it the ol' college try.

Hah.

"You," he said, pointing a large finger out at Alice. "Make sure she drinks it. All of it. And you," he turned to Rosalie and in one swift motion, picked her up around the middle and tossed her easily over his shoulder. "You're coming with me."

She screeched and pounded on his back, but it was a recognizably half-hearted attempt, and Emmett easily carried her away from our little group and towards the house. I laughed dryly and shook my head.

"So!" Alice's voice lowered conspiratorially. I took a long sip of lukewarm beer, grimacing slightly as she moved closer, eyes shining. "Jasper is hot. Really hot. And smart, too. I thought he would totally blow me off because I'm just a freshman, but he didn't. We found a corner on the deck and just talked and it was so awesome. And, he's into…things."

"Things?" I repeated skeptically, looking into my cup with a frown. It seemed just as full as before I'd started drinking.

"Yes, things. Substantial things."

"Substantial things?"

"Jesus, Bella, is there an echo out here? Yes, substantial things. Music and history and art."

"Oh." I scrunched my nose up, simply because it made my face feel funny.

"I mean, he likes other stuff, too. Like kissing." Alice smiled dreamily. "Which is good. It would be a real disservice the female race for that passion to go unexplored. Because wow can he-"

I held up my hand, silencing my best friend, and dramatically bounced from one foot to the other.

"Alice, I really, truly want to hear all about it, but I need to pee. Now."

Alice laughed and took the cup out of my hand, nodding towards the house. "You know what they say about breaking the seal."

I snorted and rolled my eyes, still hopping back and forth like a toddler.

"Feel free to help yourself to that." I pointed at the cup. "Or those," I added, looking at the ones still sitting on the table. She made a face and opened her mouth, but I didn't hear what she was going to say because I'd already taken off towards the house in search for a much needed bathroom.

The house seemed impossibly more crowded than when we had first arrived, despite the number of people who had spilled out onto the deck. More overwhelming than the mass of college kids was the way my ears were immediately assaulted with a completely new, astronomical level of noise. The din was a mixture of shouting and laughing and cheering, some strange techno beat, banging and the clinking of bottles, but all of it just pounded against my head like a sledgehammer. Muttering unheard apologies, I pushed my way through the room until I discovered the front foyer where we'd first come in. I could see a crowded hallway to my left, but the thought of navigating my way to it seemed exhausting. The strange buzzing sensation seeming to radiate off of my skull certainly wasn't helping me focus on the task.

Suddenly, a recognizable, large head of closely cropped, black hair came into view. I rose up on my tip-toes, afraid he'd miss me, and cupped my hands around my mouth.

"Emmett! Hey, Emmett!"

He looked around for a second, scanning the sea of people, before spotting me. I had now taken to waving my arms around like a windmill and bouncing up and down, though the latter had more to do with my need to pee than anything else. I was relieved when he grinned and made his way over to where I was standing, unopened beer in each fist and a scowling blonde trailing behind him.

"Emmett, hi!" I said, shouting to be heard over the noise. "I need to use the bathroom!"

He nodded thoughtfully then glanced behind him.

"Unless you feel like waiting on line for half an hour with a dozen drunken idiots, I'd use the bathroom upstairs. On the left," Emmett offered, gesturing towards the stairs. "Just try not to advertise the fact. Second floor is generally off limits during parties."

I nodded thankfully and glanced at the stairs, but I didn't move towards them, despite the alarms going off in my bladder. Considering the way I'd basically just stumbled through the house, I was lacking confidence in my ability to slip subtly upstairs without being noticed, even though everyone seemed pretty preoccupied. Emmett must have sensed my unease, because he grabbed Rosalie from his side and gently pushed her forward with a grin.

"Here, Rosie will show you where to go."

Rosalie glanced at me then back to Emmett, looking thoroughly uninterested in showing me absolutely anything, but much to my surprise, she pressed her mouth into a tight-lipped smile and nodded. My kidneys rejoiced as she turned and headed for the stairs, and I followed silently, right on the heels of her stilettos. No one paid us any mind, much as I'd expected, but when we reached the landing I was actually glad to have Rosalie there to guide my way. There were three unmarked, closed doors on the left and I shuddered to imagine what might lie behind the ones that were not the bathroom.

"Middle door," she instructed. "I'll wait here to make sure no idiot comes barging through to vomit on your lap."

"Thanks," I said honestly, cringing at the thought.

I pushed the door open slowly and felt around on the wall blindly for the light switch. When I located it, I flipped it on and slipped inside, closing the door behind me. There was no lock on the knob and I was suddenly even more thankful that Emmett had volunteered Rosalie to accompany me. I realized then that I was holding my breath. I'd been prepared for something out of Animal House, but as I looked around and resumed normal breathing, I realized it wasn't so bad. Relatively clean even, if I avoided inspecting the corners. I made quick work of emptying my bladder, but after taking care of business, I became suddenly aware of how wonderfully quiet it was on the second floor. I washed my hands the best I could, then sat on the lid of the toilet, letting the pounding in my head slowly fade. I could still hear the commotion downstairs, muffled through the floor, but it no longer felt like someone was driving an electric drill into my temple. The fuzzy edges surrounding my brain were beginning to dissipate and I noticed the tile beneath my feet wasn't tilting the way the backyard had. I took a deep breath and thought sadly of the quiet evening I'd originally planned for my first night on campus. It was a strange combination of emotions, mourning what would have been a wonderfully relaxing night, scoping out the dining hall and the computer labs and setting up my desk, but there was also a tiny tinge of pity. Tonight hadn't been horrible. Rosalie was pretty much a bitch, but if I discounted her presence, I might even be able to admit that I'd had fun. More importantly, I'd been fun. Hopefully it would be enough to keep Alice in my corner for now. Plus, I actually really liked Emmett. My preconceived notions were now starting to seem pretty unfair. In fact, it was enough for me to rethink my approach. I would definitely try to be more open-minded from here on out. After all, wasn't that the cornerstone of the whole college experience? Maybe even Rosalie deserved more of a chance than I'd originally given her. Maybe she wasn't really that bad.

Except she was. She really, really was.

I was still sitting on the toilet seat with my head resting in my hands, pondering the night and congratulating myself on my successes, when the bathroom door flew open. I shot up into a standing position and screamed.

Automatically, I made quick work of taking in the startled boy in front on me, currently shielding his face with his arms, and felt my stomach drop. His signature, green eyes were covered but unmistakably, Edward Cullen had just walked in on me in the bathroom. Mortification didn't even begin to describe the feeling currently draining all the blood from my face.

"Oh shit, I am so sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here." He groaned and turned so that his back was to me. "I saw Rosalie on the stairs. She said she didn't think anyone was up here."

All the blood that had drained to my toes suddenly boiled back up, laced with anger. I had a few very choice words begging to burst free, but instead I began rambling on like an idiot, more concerned with immediate damage control and salvaging the last few shreds of dignity I still held intact.

"It's okay. I wasn't... I was just sitting... I mean..." My face burned red-hot and I sighed, trying to pull myself together. "I was just enjoying the quiet. You can turn around."

He glanced tentatively over his shoulder before turning back to face me, a sheepish look on his pink flushed face. "I'm really sorry. I should have knocked. I didn't think anyone was up here."

"I know. Second floor is off-limits. Emmett told me it was ok. There was no lock. It's not your fault." I rattled on, spouting out simple sentences as though I was short-circuiting.

"How about we just forget it. Let's start over." He cleared his throat and gave me a small smile.

I found myself smiling back, despite the waves of embarrassment still rolling over me. Sighing, I nodded.

He held up a finger, signaling me to wait, then turned around. A second later, he spun to face me, an enormous grin on his face and eyes wide with mock surprise.

"Bella! Hey, wow! Fancy seeing you here!"

I giggled, but I wasn't sure if it was because I found him funny or simply because I was tickled that he'd remembered my name. Maybe it was both. But then something dawned on me and my face straightened.

"Oh! Did you need..." I gestured towards the toilet, blushing slightly.

"No." He shook his head and grinned. "I was actually just looking for some quiet."

"Needed a break from the party?"

"Never," he answered, lifting his arm. I noticed then that he was gripping a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Just making it a little more private. Do you mind?"

And then I was blushing twice as hard and shaking my head, gesturing him into the bathroom as though I was welcoming him into my home. He clicked the door closed behind him as he entered, causing my heart to skip a beat, then hopped up on the counter next to the sink. He took a long sip of Jack, then leaned his head back against the wall with a 'thud' and closed his eyes. Feeling awkward, I sat back down on the toilet seat and stared at the tile floor.

It was quiet for awhile, both of us just sitting there enjoying the relative silence. The muffled sounds of the party downstairs were still present, but they weren't nearly as grating. After what might have been five minutes or fifty, I felt something nudge my shoulder and I looked up.

Edward was offering me the bottle with a crooked grin and although everything in my logical mind told me to decline, I grabbed it by the neck and took a huge gulp. Almost immediately, my eyes filled with water as the alcohol burned a stripe down my throat. I tried to stifle a cough against the back of my hand, but it came out sounding like I was choking. Edward laughed, and although it wasn't the cruel kind of laughter, I felt my stomach give a tiny flutter of humiliation. Determined to redeem myself, I took another swallow, prepared for the stinging sensation this time around, then handed him back the bottle.

"So, did you win?" he asked, running his fingers around the rim. It was the same place my lips had been only moments ago, which gave me and odd, funny feeling in my stomach.

"Win?" I echoed, distracted by the movement of his fingers.

"Yeah. Beer pong? Against Emmett?"

"Oh!" I smacked my palm against my forehead. The beer pong game seemed like it had happened hours ago. "No. No, I did not. But I'm sure you guessed as much."

Edward simply shrugged and took another sip of liquor before passing it back to me. Automatically, I brought it to my mouth. I noticed the static in my brain was beginning to crackle again, but I ignored it.

Looking back, I shouldn't have. I was completely out of my element and blinded by this beautiful boy and the effects of a good amount of alcohol. I was preoccupied with trying to be something that I really wasn't and my promise to give this college thing a real chance.

The truth was that I thought I knew what I was doing. Sure, I'd choose an evening curled up in bed with Walt Whitman over a kegger any night, but it didn't mean I was living the first eighteen years of my life under a rock. I'd had the unfortunate experience of being manhandled by Mike Newton at the after-prom hotel party Alice had hosted. Drinks had been flowing freely, as was the pressure to graduate high school with the apt number of socially acceptable sexual experiences. So, as Alice pushed beer after beer into my hands, Mike Newton's hands were pushing me closer and closer to one of the few, unoccupied bedrooms. It had been mechanical and awkward and he'd grunted like an overexerted power lifter. I'd laid there staring at the ceiling as his sweaty forehead pressed into my shoulder and he thrust his hips spastically, spouting declarations of long unrequited love and adoration while humping me like a dog in heat. In the current alcohol fuzzed depths of my brain, I'd bet my academic scholarship that Edward Cullen neither humped nor grunted.

"So, what brings you out to our little hole in the wall, Bella?" He reached for the bottle, but I pulled it out of reach with a sigh of exasperation.

"Why? Do I really come across like some huge, socially retarded nerd completely incapable of-"

"Whoa," he said, leaning closer and tearing the bottle from my grip. "Chill out, killer. I was just making conversation."

I rubbed my palms against my forehead feeling foolish.

"Sorry," I grumbled. "Maybe I am socially retarded."

"You're not socially retarded," he laughed, scooting to the edge of the counter. "You're just a freshman."

Somehow, this accusation seemed to offend me more. My head snapped up and I glared at him through blurry eyes. The smirk he wore, however adorable, did nothing but add fuel to the fire.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. This just happens every year. You cute, little freshman file in looking for a taste of the party lifestyle, embracing college and abandoning your morals. You get too excited because it's all so new and too drunk because you can't keep up with the big boys. If you're lucky, you end up with a massive hangover, if you're not you wake up with a tarnished reputation. It's textbook." He shrugged nonchalantly, like it was the simplest truth in the world, and I was suddenly on my feet. I crossed my arms in frustration and narrowed my eyes.

"I didn't come here to party," I said, vaguely aware that my words were slightly slurred. "I was actually dragged here under the pretence of meeting Emmett. I rarely drink. And," I said, unfolding my arms and jamming a finger out at him, "I am not cute."

He scratched the back of my neck with a shrug and laughed, pushing my finger down. Though, when my hand was at my side, he didn't let go.

"Two of those three facts might be true," he said, still grinning, "but experience would tell me otherwise."

My mind was working overtime to decipher his cryptic response, though nothing could be heard over one loud, blaring thought: he was still holding my hand. Unnerved and needing an excuse to free myself, I pulled my fingers free and grabbed for the bottle of Jack. I'd already had quite enough, but I took a swallow anyway. Big mistake.

It took only a few seconds for the bathroom to sway and distort. I blinked futilely, trying to clear my vision and felt Edward's hand grip my bicep with surprising strength.

"I think you've had enough," he said, taking the bottle back and putting it down next to the sink. I pouted and tried to wiggle my arm free. His fingers loosened, but he didn't let go completely. "How about we switch you to water?"

I nodded, having enough sense to agree that was probably a good idea. He slid down off the counter and lead me out into the hall, still holding my arm. Incredibly, I seemed to be more coordinated in my drunken state then my sober one. I was swaying quite a bit, but so far I hadn't stumbled onto my face. Of course, we'd only taken about five steps, but the small victory seemed something worthy of celebration.

"Come on," he said, releasing my arm and moving to take my hand. He gently pulled me forward and I was surprised when he led me past the stairs, but said nothing. I was preoccupied and drunk - a deadly combination. It wasn't until we were standing in front of one of the closed doors on the second floor that coherent thought busted through the fog in my brain. Well, somewhat coherent.

"You think I'm cute," I blurted out as he pushed the door open and led me into the room.

"What?" He laughed, releasing my hand and leaving me standing just inside the doorway.

"I told you 'I didn't come here to party, I don't drink and I'm not cute'," I said, nodding my head with certainty. "And you said two of those three things might be true. So one of them isn't. You think I'm cute. Right?" By the time I finished, I was seeing some flaws in my explanation and I wasn't so sure I hadn't just made a complete idiot of myself. I tugged on the ends of my hair and glanced around the room.

It was obviously a bedroom, marked by the large bed sitting in the center. There was a dresser and a bureau against the far wall, their tops cluttered with various papers and coins and male grooming products. The walls were covered with posters and school-themed pendants and a wooden paddle hung above the bed, etched with symbols I recognized as Greek but couldn't decipher in my current state. There was a set of windows and I recognized one, kept together with masking tape, that I'd seen from the outside. Edward was across the carpet, crouched down in front of a mini refrigerator next to the dresser. When he stood and spun around, there was a bottle of water in his hand, which he walked over and handed to me.

"Drink," he instructed. When I didn't move, he shook his head and sighed, but his lips were drawn into a smile. "Yes, I think you're very cute."

Appeased, and feeling like my heart might burst out of my chest with confetti and rainbows, I cracked open the top of the water and took a sip. I tried to focus on keeping the bottle to my mouth, but all I could think about was the fact that Edward thought I was cute. It seemed like such a mathematical impossibility. He was sublimely cool and attractive and popular and smooth and all the other adjectives in the English language that described the exact opposite of what I perceived myself to be. How on earth he could be even mildly interested in me was beyond my current level of comprehension.

The thing I learned quickly about being drunk was that things tended to turn very philosophical very fast. I guess that would explain why I suddenly held fate responsible for my present situation. It seemed the only way I could possibly reason out the fact that I was standing in a Edward Cullen's bedroom was to attribute it to a higher power. And so, in my normally logical, but currently inebriated brain, I felt that I was here for a reason. Maybe it was to be given the ultimate opportunity to prove to Alice just how awesome I could really be. Maybe it was the chance to earn a small victory for the quiet, nerdy girls who'd rather stay in on a Friday night. Or maybe it was smaller than that. Maybe it was simply time for me to prove that I was willing to give this whole college thing a real try.

In my head, all of these things sounded plausible. They were ridiculous, of course, but the truth was that things like this didn't ever happen to me. I wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse, but it certainly made me ill prepared for the situation. All of these factors - my inebriation, my inexperience, my desire to be someone cooler - they led me to do something completely idiotic and awesome and unexplainable. As Edward steered me around and walked back towards the door, I capped my water and dropped it to the carpet. Hearing the thud, he turned back to me and in that moment, everything changed.

* * *

Now, this update has been a long time coming. So, in good conscience, I will promise another new chapter by Monday. As I've said before, a good chunk of this story is pre-written and the next chapter falls into that. Thanks for sticking with me!

_reviews? love them. _:)

_new to the story? say hi!  
_


	9. NINE: Remember To Forget This

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith._

Enjoy!  
*waves*

* * *

_I kissed a drunk girl_  
_ I kissed a drunk girl, yes I did_  
_ Kissed a drunk girl on the lips_  
_ I let my guard down_  
_ how could I have been so dumb_  
_ Her eyes were open_  
_ I know I am not the one_

**i kissed a drunk girl - something corporate**

**Chapter Nine: **Remember To Forget This In The Morning

Before I could step away from the door, she was against me, slamming me backwards so that the metal doorknob dug unforgivably into my lower spine. Her lips were rough and desperate in their assault on my own and I couldn't help but wonder what the hell she was trying to prove. Her advances were undeniably welcome, but incredibly unexpected. Something didn't feel right. This girl pressed against my chest was not the same girl I'd first met in the backyard. Not by a fucking long shot.

The night had been pretty successful thus far. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and I'd made a pitch to some of the more promising looking freshmen. The party really did most of the talking, providing all the very best reasons why they should want to pledge Phi Chi Kappa, but a little added incentive never hurt. When I'd felt my duties had been aptly tended to, I'd decided to slip away for a moment. Despite things going smoothly, I was surprised by just how much damn pressure seemed to be weighing on my shoulders. I also didn't really want to admit how much my earlier run in with Rosalie had bothered me, which is why coincidentally meeting her on the stairs was like a punch in the balls. Our exchange was short and relatively sweet: I asked if Emmett was upstairs, hoping to maybe share a few congratulatory shots with my best friend for a job well done to which she snottily answered that no one was up there. And then I'd walked in on Bella in the bathroom.

After the initial awkwardness of the situation subsided, things were strangely easy. We didn't really say much, just sat and enjoyed the quiet, but somehow I found myself being drawn to her. Something about her intrigued me. Something set her apart from the usual brand of females parading around the frat. Maybe it was simply the fact that she wasn't trying to shove her tits in my face. Except now she kind of was, so maybe it wasn't that at all.

Ever so slowly I gripped her biceps and moved her backwards, increasing the space between us. The very last thing that I wanted to do was offend or embarrass her, but if things continued, I'd be forced to go along with them. I was only human. While I still had a shred of self control, I needed to try and do some semblance of the right thing..

"Bella, hey," I whispered, "slow down."

She immediately stiffened in my grasp and I watched her eyes flutter down to the carpet, shamefully, as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Her hands flew up to her neck where they fidgeted with the ends of her hair and I sighed. I should have just kept my freakin' mouth shut.

"You look hot when you do that, you know?" I said honestly, hoping I could still salvage the situation.

Her eyes flashed back up to mine and she covered her mouth to suppress a giggle. Taking advantage of her sudden improvement in mood I slid away from the door and moved around behind her.

"Let's just slow down a little bit, okay?"

She nodded.

I probably should have suggested we go back downstairs to the party. That would have been the _right _thing to do, but I figured this was the next best option. Admittedly, this was not at all where I'd intended for things to go when I'd taken her into my room, but mostly because I guess I'd assumed there wasn't a chance in hell.

I kicked my sneakers off and, following my lead, she stepped out of her flip-flops and pushed them over to the side.

I wasn't sure exactly why I was suddenly being so chivalrous. A cute, drunk freshman was literally flinging herself at me in my bedroom and I was worried about slowing things down? For some strange, fucked up reason, a part of me wanted this night to be different, not just another notch on the Phi Chi paddle. Maybe special even.

_Special?_

I had been keeping my alcohol intake to a minimum throughout the evening, but maybe I was far more drunk then I'd originally thought. I'd known this girl for all of three hours and I was worried about making things special? Christ, maybe I should've suggested Ben and Jerry's and the Lifetime channel, because apparently I'd grown a vagina.

Desperately needing my brain to shut up, I sat on the edge of my bed and motioned her to me with my index finger. She grinned and tilted her head shyly, swaying slightly as she slowly walked over. Gently, she situated her legs between mine and roped her arms around the back of my neck. I rested my hands lightly on her hips, momentarily mesmerized by the way the hem of her shirt lifted with each breath to expose a sliver of pale skin. My fingertips itched to touch her beneath the barrier of fabric, but I hooked my thumbs around the belt loops of her jeans to keep them in place, determined to keep taking things slow.

I felt her fingers tickle the hair at the nape of my neck and she smiled sweetly down at me, her eyes slightly hooded by what I found myself seriously hoping was more lust than inebriation. I gently tugged her hips downward and she slowly lowered herself onto her knees in front of me, sliding her palms down my chest in the process. Now I was staring down at her, the modestly cut shirt she wore providing an unexpected view of cleavage that caused my throat to constrict. I licked my lower lip in concentration and forced my eyes up to meet hers. They were wide and such a deep, dark brown color they were practically black. Honestly, she looked a bit terrified, but she pressed forward. And, really, who was I to stop her?

She moved her body closer so that her pelvis and upper thighs pushed against my crotch. I inhaled sharply, instinctively jerking her forward by her belt loops so that her chest was flush against mine. I could feel her heart beating against her ribs. Slowly, I moved a hand away from her hip and pressed my palm flat against the top of her left breast, where the organ in question thumped. It raced impossibly faster and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, never breaking eye contact. She was nervous and it was refreshingly and unfathomably hot. Our slow, careful movements were a complete three-sixty from the attack she'd launched moments ago. That had been wrong. This…this felt right. Well, more right anyway.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, just looking at each other as I let her heartbeat reverberate against my unmoving hand. Her arms rested on top of my shoulders with her fingers lightly grazing the hair on the back of my neck, sending chills trickling down my spine with every soft stroke. The simple, gentle touching, however, was quickly becoming overwhelming and I wondered how much longer my self-control could possibly hold out. I wasn't used to this meticulously tender treatment even though I'd been the one to initiate it.

It was almost as if she could read my mind because suddenly her face was inching closer and the softest pair of lips were on top of my own.

Reflexively, with my palm still pressed against her chest, my thumb flicked out, grazing over the peak of her breast. She exhaled in response and though it was noiseless, I felt the sensation of her warm breath against my mouth and groaned. My hand tightened on her hip as I pulled her against me, crushing my mouth against hers harder, tasting sweetness and bitter alcohol and the slightest trace of mint. In a well practiced move, I brought both hands down over her ass until they gripped the back of her thighs and pulled her up on top of me.

She giggled and I felt my lips curl into a smile. Her fingers brushed lightly against my cheek and I closed my eyes, savoring the soft tickle.

"You're smiling," she whispered.

"Am I?" I asked with feigned concern, opening my eyes. "Hold on. Let me put on my serious, passionate sex face."

I pulled my lips into a tight pucker and narrowed my eyes.

"Blue Steel? I liked it better when you were smiling." She laughed fully now, letting it flow freely from between her lips.

Two things happened then. One was that the vibrations from her laughter sent an almost painfully intense rush of blood down below my hips. The second was that I realized this girl had just made an obscure reference to one of Ben Stiller's greatest works of comedic genius. To say I was turned on would be the understatement of the century.

I scooted back towards the center of the bed, holding her to me, then rolled us both so that our positions were swapped. I situated myself between her legs, cursing the double barrier of denim our jeans created. Mine were already feeling particularly tight in the crotch as it was. Deciding distraction would be the best course of action for the time being, I ducked my head down to hers, just barely brushing her lips with my own. As intended, she met me the rest of the way, pushing herself up to deepen the kiss.

It wasn't long before our tongues were acquainted and my mouth had moved on to explore other new and uncharted areas of the beautiful and intriguing female beneath me. Once I was satisfied that every inch of her jaw and neck and been given proper attention, I craved something more daring. Despite her willingness so far, there was an anxiousness in her eyes that told me I needed to proceed carefully.

I ran my hands down her sides, enjoying they way her mouth twisted into a smile as she squirmed.

"Ticklish?" I asked with a chuckle and she nodded. True to form, she was cute as hell. I wanted to dig my fingers into her ribs and hear her laugh some more, but there were other, more important things to accomplish.

_Was I really even remotely considering putting off sex for tickling? What the fuck was wrong with me tonight?_

Blinking my inner turmoil away, I found the hem of her shirt and slipped my hand beneath it, resting my palm against her stomach. I felt her muscles tighten and I couldn't help but smile in amusement. Slowly, I traced a circle around her belly button, oddly pleased that no metal marred her skin. I wondered if perhaps a different, hidden body part might be pierced. It seemed like something someone like her might do; hiding their freak streak from casual company. I felt a swell of excitement as I realized tonight, I would find out.

I pushed my hand upwards until it rested in the valley between her breasts. Almost immediately, her chest stopped moving and I realized she was holding her breath. Again, I found her so fucking cute it was almost annoying.

"Either you're going to die from lack of oxygen or I'm going to move my hand," I teased. "And my hand is pretty happy right where it is."

"Physically impossible. You can't die from holding your own breath," she replied smugly and I grinned.

"Ah, but now you're talking and that has got you breathing." It was true. I felt the rise and fall of her chest resume beneath my palm.

"We'll have a battle of wits later, when I'm sober," she said scrunching up her nose. "Then we'll see who's so smart."

"It's a date," I promised, and I wasn't sure if I was serious. I sincerely hoped I wasn't.

I didn't really have time to ponder it much further because the part of me straining painfully against the zipper of my jeans was becoming impatient with our small talk and I had to agree that it was time to move things along. I vaguely wondered how long we'd been at this. I couldn't see my alarm clock from this angle and I'd be damned if I was going to turn and look at it and give her the wrong impression. The music seemed to have died down, but I could still hear the muffled murmur of conversation coming from downstairs. Not that that was any reliable gauge of time. Our parties had gone on until dawn on more than one occasion.

Slowly, I slid my palm to the left, cupping her breast and squeezing gently. Her jaw fell open and her eyelids fluttered closed, her hands fisting the back of my shirt. She was tugging it towards my head, trying unsuccessfully to remove it, so I did the gentlemanly thing and helped her pull it off. I tossed it on the floor and sat back on my heels.

"Your turn," I commanded.

She ran her fingers across my chest and I groaned, relishing the way she traced the faint lines of my abdominal muscles.

"You wouldn't know you drink so much beer," she laughed, moving her thumbs across the edges of my chest.

"How do you know how much beer I drink?"

"You're a frat boy," she responded, as though it were an obvious response.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't try to distract me," I said, gripping the edge of her tee-shirt. "Your turn."

She sighed, but complied, lifting her back up off the bed so I could pull her shirt off. My eyes swept across her newly exposed flesh appreciatively. Still, I wanted to see more. I wanted to see all of her.

"This too," I said, running my finger under the shoulder strap of her simple, white, cotton bra. It goes without saying that I found this particular choice of garment fucking adorable. I'd seen lacy bras and satin bras and push up bras and, more often than not, a lack of bra altogether. Somehow this modest piece of underwear proved to be the biggest turn on of my life.

_Or maybe it was just the person wearing it_.

Or maybe I was losing fucking my mind.

"Come on, lets go," I coaxed, snapping the strap gently across her skin. "Off."

"Nope." She shook her head with a sly smile. "Piece for piece. _Your _turn."

I cocked an eyebrow in amusement. Despite the slight slur to her words, I wondered if she wasn't nearly as innocent as I'd originally assumed.

"Not fair," I argued. "You're wearing more clothes."

"Well, if you want me to be wearing less, you'll lose the pants."

I grinned. Truthfully, I didn't care. I'd strip completely naked before she removed another article of clothing if that's what she wanted. I was just having fun, which was completely new and foreign and, honestly, a little unnerving. I couldn't remember a time before this when words had ever even been exchanged during an impromptu night of sex. Certainly nothing beyond "yeah, do it harder" and "oh god, yes". Once a girl had leaned off the bed to puke in my garbage, but other than that, nothing. I liked this, way beyond the amazing things she was doing to me physically.

_Shit, I was definitely going soft._

I hopped up off the bed and quickly undid the constraints of my pants, pulling them down and kicking them off at the ankles. Ever the reliable and enthusiastic participant, Edward Junior stood at attention, pitching a tent in my blue and green striped boxers.

Bella snorted with laughter and, for a moment, I felt strangely self-conscious.

"The socks. Please, take off the socks," she giggled, covering her eyes with her hands.

"What's wrong with them?" I asked, drawing my face into a pout and contorting my body into ridiculous poses, showcasing my grey ankle socks in all their glory. She peeked through her fingers and groaned.

I wasn't particularly surprised. Many a female had the sex-with-socks aversion. Normally it was just an unextraordinary preference. With Bella it was…adorable.

_God damn it_.

"I do believe it's your turn," I reminded her, shaking a socked foot in her direction. She rolled her eyes, but undid the button of her jeans and shimmied them off her hips.

_White cotton panties_.

I swallowed hard.

"Now the socks," she demanded, tossing her pants at me playfully. I let them hit my chest and fall to the floor, then pulled the material from my feet as she'd asked. When I'd added them to the growing accumulation of discarded clothing, I stood, unmoving, taking in Bella's most recently exposed areas of skin. I moved my eyes up the length of her body, until they settled on her face. Her lower lip was hidden behind her top teeth and a deep crease had settled across her forehead. I supposed it hadn't gone unnoticed that the last delicate pieces of fabric remaining were concealing our most private parts. That fact didn't bother me at all. It was the talking and laughing that unnerved me considerably.

"Your turn," I whispered. I saw her swallow and I realized she was nervous again. Something alien tugged in my chest. "Really, I should make you take off two things, because I took off two socks. I'll go easy on you though. This time."

I wasn't sure why I'd added the 'this time'. I was never with the same girl twice, except on rare occasions when I'd forgotten ever being with her the first time. Maybe it made me an asshole, but it was the truth. It kept things from becoming messy or complicated. It kept me from becoming distracted. Something told me Bella would not be so easy to forget.

"No, you're right," she sighed, sitting up. "I made the rules."

I wanted to tell her to screw the rules, but I was frozen in anticipation as she reached behind herself to unclip the cotton bra. As the material gave way, loosely covering her breasts, I took an involuntary step towards the bed.

She flashed a brave, bright smile and let the straps slide down off of her shoulders to the creases of her elbows. Then, eyebrows knit in determination, she pulled it clear off. Gently dropping the garment to the floor, she sat, chewing on her lip and gazing down at her bare chest. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

Her hands went to the ends of her hair and she pulled at the strands in what I was beginning to recognize as a nervous gesture. I worried that her returning nerves might be a sign she was sobering up. I hoped not. She might run right out of the room screaming if she got her bearings.

_Way to sound like a massive creep. _

Hoping to calm her, I climbed onto the bed and sat on my knees, only inches away from her. I slipped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her up close to me, pressing our chests and mouths together. The kisses were slow but deep and my tongue lashed out, entwining with hers. I let my free hand run up and down the length of her arm and she shivered against me. I could feel her nipples harden against my skin.

I slid my hand lightly down her back, moving my fingertips along every bump in her spine. She shivered again and pulled her body away from mine, staring into my eyes with such intensity I couldn't look away. In my peripheral vision, I saw her arms move to her sides and I could feel her hips wiggling. Her entire body shifted as she pulled off her panties and tossed them over my shoulder. Harnessing strength I didn't know my feeble male mind possessed, my eyes remained glued to hers.

"Your eyes," she whispered. "They're very green."

I smiled, because they were. No girl had ever really mentioned specific details of my appearance. Occasionally there was the "you're so big" comment, but I was pretty sure it was just an ego booster. (Wikipedia classified me as average. Not that I'd ever looked it up or anything.) One time a girl told me my pubic hair was well-groomed. The observations pretty much stopped there. But not with Bella.

I pushed her down against the bed in one of my rougher moves of the night, pulling my boxers down with one hand in the process. When the last remaining offending article of clothing had joined its fallen companions, I rolled on my side next to her and forced her knees apart with my fingers. I hiked her closest leg up between mine so that her thigh rested just below my erection. Involuntarily, my hips ground down and I inhaled sharply against the wave of pleasure. Our eyes were still locked, never breaking contact, so I relied on touch and a general sense of female anatomy to find her abdomen. I placed my palm there momentarily, wasting little time before sliding it downwards.

She whimpered and her eyelids fluttered and again my hips reflexively ground down against her thigh. I groaned again, willing my body back under control. Humping her leg was probably not a huge turn on. My issues, however, took a backseat because she was incredibly wet against my hand and all I could think about was getting her to keep making those cute little noises. It wasn't difficult. I alternated my movements, first thrusting my middle and index fingers inside of her, curling them up slightly as I pulled out. Then, before plunging back in, I used my thumb to massage the sensitive spot at the top of her lips. She hissed and sighed and sucked in audible gulps of air. But these were minor league noises; I was ready for the big time.

Although her body twisted and bucked in a resounding 'yes' I wanted a more vocal consent before I moved things further. I mustered up my rapidly depleting self-control, but Bella changed the game. Again. Without warning, her soft fingers wrapped around my erection and her hand immediately went to work, stroking up and down my entire length with surprising speed. My forehead fell against her shoulder and I let out a breath of hot air against her skin. I wouldn't last long, that much was certain, and I really, really didn't want to be 'that guy'. Especially not now; not with Bella.

Concentrating hard, I continued working my fingers, focusing more attention on her clit and prompting increasingly strong thrusts against my palm. Just as we'd settled into a comfortable rhythm, Bellastroking me in time with my arm's movements, I stopped. I ran my slick fingers softly down her inner thigh and her hand left my cock to grab a fistful of my hair. She pulled my face to hers, pressing her lips to mine as I gently squeezed her breasts with my free hand. When she released me, I drew back, studying her expression. I could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath my hand, her eyes reflecting desire I was sure was patently obvious in my own.

There was one thing, however, holding me back. I cleared my throat and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"Can I ask you something without offending you?" I whispered, scratching the back of my neck.

"I don't know. Can you?" she teased.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, struggling for words. I figured there was no use trying to be suave and so I went for the only other option my lust muddled brain could come up with: the widely unsuccessful blurt-it-out technique.

"Are you a virgin?"

I held my breath as a blush colored her cheeks and braced myself for impact, but she didn't hit me. She just closed her eyes.

"No," she answered quietly. "Maybe, um, just more out of practice."

"Good." I breathed a sigh of relief and ran my fingers along her collarbone. "We sort of have a no virgin policy at Phi Chi. Out of practice is okay. I'm a good teacher."

"Sort of?"

"Well, you know, sometimes one slips through the cracks."

She seemed to find this hilarious, giggling beneath me so hard her entire body shook. I shut her up really quick though when my hands moved to spread her legs wider.

"You okay?" I asked.

She grinned and nodded and it was all the affirmation I needed. I rolled away from her to the edge of the bed and groped around on my night stand until my fingers came in contact with the familiar foil wrapper I'd been searching for. Bringing it to my mouth, I expertly tore it open with my teeth and rolled the condom into place. Resuming our unspoken eye-contact rule, I moved in between her legs and slowly guided myself inside her, feeling like a god damned kid on Christmas. Fucking hell, she felt good.

"Still okay?" I asked breathlessly, offering a small smile that I hoped told her she could admit it if she wasn't.

"Yes," she answered quietly, lifting her hips up. My grin widened.

I began sliding in and out of her, fighting against primal instinct to keep my movements controlled. She was tighter than most girls I'd been with, but most girls I'd been with weren't like Bella. In fact, I'd be willing to bet a month of masturbation that none of them were. It wasn't uncomfortable. If I had to admit it, I'd say we were a perfect fit. That, however, was a real pussy thing to say and I was a man. A man's man. I grunted to affirm the fact.

Feeling the muscles in my legs start to burn, I hitched her legs up over my hips and shifted forward, bracing my weight on my arms on either side of her head. The new position allowed me deeper entrance and, almost immediately, her soft, quiet whimpers were transformed into moans. On any other day, I found moaning hot. Today, it was cruel and unusual torture, but only because the sound of Bella's moans alone were enough to make me come. I gritted my teeth and moved my hips faster, instantly rewarded by a particularly loud exhale.

This girl was doing wicked things to my already thin control.

Her hands clutched my wrists at the sides of her head and she began arching her body to meet mine. The wet sound of skin against skin echoed in the room, drowned out only by our alternating vocalizations of pleasure. I was close. Too close.

I leaned back and pushed her up closer to the top of the bed by her thighs so that her shoulders and upper back were propped up against the headboard. I leaned my own body forward, bracing one arm against the wall while my other hand slid between us, finding the spot where we connected. Her heightened arousal made it easy to find her clit and I teased it with my fingers as I assailed her hips with mine. She panted, digging her nails into my biceps as she ground her body against me.

My brain was fuzzy. There was nothing but Bella's body and her sounds and the most intense, unexplainable pleasure I'd ever felt. There was nothing particularly mind blowing about the sex, but somehow my every nerve was wrapped up in our motions. My legs quivered as spark after spark of bliss ignited every inch of my body. I rubbed my fingers against her faster and her moans increased in length and volume. Her utterances merged together, beginning to form words. Thank god. It meant she was close. I couldn't hold out much longer.

"Don't," she breathed. "Don't."

"Don't what, Bella? Tell me," I said, my voice unnaturally rough with lust.

"Don't stop."

At that point, I don't know if there was anything on earth that could have made me stop. The Coors Light twins could have rode through my bedroom wall naked in a Ferrari Enzo and I wouldn't have even looked up.

I released just a hair of my control, letting my movements become more erratic, my pelvis smacking almost painfully against hers and it was over. She was moaning. I was moaning. There was combined moaning and it was fan-fucking-tastic. Her fingers gripped my arms with surprising strength and suddenly her eyes popped open in surprise.

"I think…I'm going to…"

I knew those words. I knew what they meant.

"Go, Bella. Come on," I coaxed, removing my fingers from in between us. I scooted up, gripped the headboard with both hands and pounded into her with everything I had.

"I'm going… okay? Okay?" Her words were strained, but she had asked my permission to come. She had asked if it was okay. I wasn't into that whole Dominant/Submissive fetish, but the pure innocence with which she had asked my permission was… _aw, fuck. It was adorable._

"Come for me, baby."

And she did.

Her whimpers increased in pitch until they no longer made sound, her lips frozen in a silent 'O', her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, clamping us together. Her hips ground against mine and suddenly my cock was being squeezed and released in a rhythmic, pulsing sensation. Her head tilted back, exposing the full length of her neck as she moaned. It wasn't particularly loud or long, but it was the single hottest sound I'd ever heard and it was more than enough to send me over the edge. With a few short, jerking thrusts I came, my entire body shaking with my climax. The explosion was so intense that my teeth ground together and my fingers dug painfully into the wooden bed frame.

"Fuck, Bella," I hissed, leaning my forehead against hers as the last tremors of my orgasm quivered through my body.

Sweaty and spent I rolled off of her with a satisfied sigh. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was twisted into a contented smile. After discarding the condom in the wastebasket by the side of the bed, I turned towards her and rubbed my thumb across her cheek.

Pet names were a no-no in the Edward Cullen handbook and I was quite aware that I'd called her 'baby' in the heat of the moment. Terms of endearment, while universal, made things personal for me. My parents had always addressed me as Edward - never honey or sweetie or any of those other mushy alternatives. I had always figured when I found someone I loved I would show my affection in ways I had never experienced growing up. Of course, that list was long and dwelling on the thought of my parents after such amazing sex was ruining my quiet contentment. Not to mention it was just plain fucked up.

Distraction came easy. The insatiable Edward Junior was already perking up for round two, though I doubted my luck tonight was good enough to provide me with another go.

Of course, Bella surprised me yet again claiming practice made perfect.

I kept it to myself that I had a feeling she already was.

* * *

Next up: the morning after.

as always, your reviews are so very appreciated!

:]


	10. TEN: Holding On In A New Direction

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is mine._

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* * *

_  
_ Let's rearrange_  
_ I wish you were a stranger I could disengage_  
_ Just say that we agree and then never change_  
_ Soften a bit until we all just get along_

**over my head (cable car) - the fray**

**Chapter Ten:** Holding On In A New Direction

I wasn't sure exactly what woke me, but as I squinted my eyes open a smidge, I was assaulted by an unforgivably bright beam of sun and immediately I closed them again. My head pounded angrily with an intense pain that reverberated out from my temples and my stomach twisted sickly. It was like a vice was slowly squeezing my brain into a pancake.

I swallowed back the watery taste of nausea and scrubbed my hands against my face. My mouth and tongue felt thick and pasty and my muscles protested as I attempted to straighten my limbs . I wondered if I was in a hospital bed, mangled and disfigured from a horrible accident. It certainly seemed feasible. I felt like I'd gotten into a fight with a Mack truck and lost. I wondered what Charlie would say when he found out his daughter had managed to get herself maimed on her first night of independence. I wondered if I was recognizable in my current state of near-death. Had I been carrying ID or would Charlie have to be called in to identify this mass of putty as his daughter?

With my eyes still scrunched shut against the offending rays of sun, I felt around for an extra pillow or piece of blanket to cover my head. I thought maybe I could just sleep through the pain. My hands groped around blindly for the familiar feeling of bedding fabric, but instead found something warm and hairy and unexpected. My eyes flew open and I shot up into a sitting position, clutching my arms around my surprisingly naked body in horror as my head spun. My face flamed and I thought I might be sick, but I took a deep steadying breath and forced myself to look over. A cold finger of fear danced it's way up my spine.

Beside me lay Edward Cullen, flat on his back with one arm hanging limply off the side of the bed and the other tossed across his bare chest. His hair stuck out in a million different directions, some strands flopped down over his forehead. His lips were just barely parted, allowing him to breathe noisily and revealing a sliver of white teeth. The thin sheet wrapped around his legs left very little to the imagination, dipping down below his hipbones to reveal a deep V leading to his groin. As I watched, terrified and awe-struck, he shifted and the sheet fell away altogether. I clamped my hand over my mouth and held my breath, steeling myself against a hundred different awful and humiliating sensations.

Feeling unfathomably embarrassed, I tore my eyes away and forced them to the other side of the room, silently wishing I could somehow be magically transported there. Staring at the carpet, my attention was drawn to a small white pair of female underwear near the end of the bed. _My _underwear.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Why I hadn't immediately connected the fact that we were both completely naked in his bed with the only viable explanation was beyond me. I was a smart girl. This conclusion should have been immediately apparent. I had been aware that I was naked as soon as I'd opened my eyes. Obviously my clothes had to be somewhere that didn't include 'on my body'. Somehow, actually seeing them on the floor of Edward Cullen's bedroom in the Phi Chi Kappa house jumpstarted my foggy brain.

Oh. No.

It started off as a vivid movie-like memory then quickly faded into fuzzy flashes. I remembered being tricked into pending my evening at a frat house when I'd wanted nothing more than a quiet night in the dorm. I remembered Emmett challenging me to a game of beer-pong and my fierce determination to show Alice that college-Bella could be fun and carefree. I remembered watching Edward move across the backyard, through the crowd of spectators, and offering to explain to me the rules I already knew. I remembered his eyes being unnaturally green and then him leaving. I remembered losing, terribly, and drinking cup after cup of lukewarm beer. I remembered Alice and her excitement over Jasper. Then things got increasingly unclear and difficult to decipher.

I knew Rosalie was a bitch, but I couldn't exactly remember what she'd done to make this noteworthy.

There'd been giggling. Far too much giggling. And the fact that it felt like a bed of mold had grown on my tongue told me there was liquor. Probably far too much of that as well.

There were some flickers of a bathroom and a bottle of water. I wasn't sure. One thing was for certain, though. Somehow I'd managed to stumble upstairs, into Edward's bed and out of my clothing. It had apparently been quite a spill because I'd taken him down with me.

Any concrete coherence ended there. The remaining memories were just pinpricks of insight. Edward's lips on mine. My hands pressed against his chest. His tongue sliding across my jaw. My fingers twisted in his hair. His eyes staring into mine. My back arched, pressing my hips into his.

Oh. My. God.

I sat there surrounded by sheets and shame. I had gone overboard in my quest to prove myself and the repercussions would be great. As the pieces of last night shifted like a kaleidoscope, offering me different glimpses into the past few hours, I was becoming increasingly aware and embarrassed by my behavior. I'd been forward in my advances, to say the least. It had been like I was on a mission, tackling the situation in the same way I'd tackle a paper or an exam.

But, if I was being honest with myself, I hadn't only done it for Alice. I hadn't only done it to make some kind of grand statement. I had wanted it. Edward was gorgeous and he was cool and, in the strange alternate universe we had some how fallen into, he found me cute. I knew relatively nothing about him and the things I did know should have been enough to deter my attractions, but here I was. In Edward's bed. Naked.

I leapt off of the bed, thoughtlessly forgetting about the sleeping creature next to me. The movement of the mattress as I removed my weight achieved what I had carefully avoided for the past ten minutes - waking Edward. I froze in place, like a deer in headlights, as his body shifted. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, following the motion with a stretch and a noisy yawn. Relief broke me out of my trance as he hiked the white bed sheet back up over his hips and, reminded of my own nakedness, I began frantically searching for my clothes. Grabbing my pair of underwear, I pulled them on as fast as physically possible then turned my back to the bed. I crouched down searching for the rest of last night's outfit as my heart sprinted in my panic-stricken and oh-so very bare chest.

A sleepy voice behind me caused every hair on my body to prick up.

"Well, good morning."


	11. ELEVEN: Old Habits

_Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is mine._

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* * *

_

_Say your faith is shaken_  
_ You may be mistaken_  
_ You keep me wide awake and_  
_ Waiting for the sun_  
_ I'm desperate and confused_  
_ So far away from you_

**misery - maroon 5**

**Chapter Ten:** Old Habits Have No Place In A New Year

I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as she stumbled around my room searching for her discarded articles of clothing in a rush, trying to ignore me. It was pretty fucking cute and I couldn't help but smile at her frenzied behavior. I also had to admit I wasn't hating the view of her bent over in those white cotton panties.

"Sleep well?" I teased, shifting forward on the bed and enjoying the way she jumped at the sound of my voice.

She slowly straightened, holding her recovered wrinkled, blue tee-shirt over her chest like a shield. Her eyes were narrowed and burning with intensity. I was pretty sure she'd send my bed up in flames like a god damned Lady Gaga music video if she could. I snapped my mouth shut, not because she was even slightly intimidating, but because I didn't want to upset her further.

"Just close your eyes," she demanded, though her voice was shaky and her cheeks had filled with a bright shade of pink. I found it charming that after the things we'd done last night she felt self-conscious dressing in front of me. She certainly hadn't had as much modesty undressing. I chuckled lightly, but did as I was told.

"I don't do things like this," she muttered. "Whatever happened last night…" I heard her let out a breath of exasperation. "Damn it, where is my bra?"

I groped around on the bed until I felt a strap of cotton against my hand. I opened one eye and twirled the bra around my index finger, watching her pull her shirt on, deciding to forgo the underwear garment altogether.

"Looking for this?" I asked playfully. I got a death glare in return.

"Give it here," she seethed. The fire in her eyes leapt and her nostrils flared.

"Why don't you come get it?"

For a moment, she seemed to consider the idea. She leaned towards the bed with a sigh, her gaze jumping from the bra to me. Just when I thought she might take a step closer, she shook her head and bent to retrieve her jeans.

"You know what? Just keep it. I'm sure you've got a collection. I don't have time for this." She paused for a second, pressing her palms to her forehead then added, "and this? This was a one time thing."

I cocked my head, watching her push her feet through the legs of her jeans. A smug smile crawled across my face as I let her bra fall from my finger onto my chest.

"Well, last night it wasn't just one time," I pointed out with a shrug. Her head snapped up and she wrinkled her nose at me in disgust.

"I said close your eyes!" she screeched.

I held my hands up in mock surrender and did as she said. In the darkness behind my lids I was caught off guard by the strangest of thoughts: how could I prolong our morning? It made no sense, really. She was making it pretty abundantly clear that she had no fucking intention of sticking around, and that was how I usually liked my morning afters. She was also being kind of a bitch, truth be told. Yet…

There was a decent breakfast place a few blocks off campus that served an amazing short stack of blueberry pancakes, half price with your student ID. I waited silently until her movements quieted considering my options and formulating a plan in my head.

"Ok. Now you can look," she said quietly.

I opened my eyes to see Bella now fully clothed, shifting uncomfortably in the middle of my room. She was chewing on her bottom lip in an adorable way that made me suddenly thankful for the sheet tossed over my lower half. Even with the physical activities of last night hours in the past and all her articles of clothing returned to their proper place, she definitely had that post-coital glow. Her eyes were wide and glassy, despite the dark circles below her lower lids, and her cheeks were colored with a soft blush. Her clothes were mussed and rumpled from laying in a careless pile on my floor. And then, there was her hair. Oh good god in heaven, if her wavy, chestnut locks did not epitomize freshly fucked hair then I truly couldn't fathom what would. A few pieces laid flat against her forehead, darkened with the memory of sweat from our rigorous activities, while the rest hung in wild tangles around her face and down her shoulders. I swallowed, trying to find my voice.

"What's your feelings on pancakes?" I asked, still keenly aware of how badly I didn't want our time together to end.

Her eyebrows knit in concentration as though I'd spoken the words in a foreign language she needed to translate and she hesitated.

"Pancakes are okay," she answered unsurely, rocking from one foot to the other and staring at the door.

It was painfully clear that she wanted to leave. I knew I should roll over, mumble some kind of thanks for the fun and provide her with an easy exit strategy just as I did with all the other girls, but something kept me watching her. Worse, I was devising a plan to prolong our time together. I titled my head with a small smile, deciding on gentle persistence.

"Just okay? You obviously haven't had Mae's famou, blueberry silver dollars," I remarked, my stomach growling at the mention of the delicious flat cakes. "I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't insist on taking you to breakfast. It's my duty as an upperclassmen to see that you get properly acquainted with the better things MBU and the surrounding area have to offer."

She stared at me as though I had sprouted another head, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Again, it took her a moment to respond and when she did, it was an unexpectedly quiet, unsteady voice.

"No. Thank you. Really." She shook her head and gave me a small, distracted smile, again darting her eyes between me and the bedroom door.

Well, shit. Now my pride was hurt. I could barely even remember a 'morning-after' where I didn't need Emmett's help to physically pry the female from the Phi Chi house, let alone have one turn down an offer of breakfast. I scratched the back of my neck, eyeing the fascinating creature before me. She shifted under my gaze and tugged at the ends of her insanely hot, messy hair.

"I should go."

I wanted to tell her I'd rather she stayed. I wanted to impress upon her the importance of good pancakes. I wanted to grab her by the arm and pull her back down into the cool, white sheets. I wanted more strange talking-sex. I wanted to do a number of unusual things; things completely foreign to me. I did none of them.

"It was nice meeting you, Bella."

Trying to win her over would require obvious effort and I wasn't even sure there would be any reward. I was admittedly exhausted and a little confused and I hadn't had much time to really consider the night as a whole. Maybe it was better if she left.

"Thank you," she mumbled and slipped quickly out the door, clicking it closed quietly behind her before I could say anymore.

I wondered briefly if she was thanking me for something specific or if it had been a reflexive sentiment. Her thanks could have been for any number of things - my fraternity's hospitality, my unrivaled skills in bed, my comment on the enjoyment of meeting her - or she just could have been being nice. I frowned and leaned down deeper into the pillows. It was far too early in the morning, and, more importantly, the year to get all hung up on the semantics of some random party girl.

But even as the thought passed through my consciousness I was not so foolish to think that Bella was just some random party girl.

o 0 o 0 o 0 o

Grabbing a beige, plastic tray from the beginning of the breakfast line, I scanned the tables in the Tillet dining hall, searching for my little brother. He was wise beyond his years and I, quite simply, needed to find a logical party to knock some fucking sense into me. Because even after Bella had left and I'd sworn to push her from my mind, she'd remained there. When I tried to get comfortable again in bed and catch two or three or ten more hours of sleep, all I could think about was the empty space her warm body had occupied last night. This was all ridiculous and cheesy and, well, fucking frustrating. After a good twenty minutes of tossing around and wrestling with restless thoughts, I'd gotten up.

The house was completely quiet and I knew it would likely remain that way for most of the day as the brothers attempted to sleep off hangovers and recharge for whatever ridiculous thing ended up on the agenda for tonight. I guessed some of them hadn't stumbled to their rooms and passed out that long ago, either.

I'd quickly changed into a pair of athletic pants and an MBU hoodie before heading downstairs, smiling to myself when I saw the ground level in utter disarray. There were bottles and cans and half empty cups everywhere. Three empty pizza boxes cluttered the pool table and it appeared that someone had toilet papered the living room. Furniture was uprooted and rearranged. It was a disaster. It was also the sign of an epic start-of-term party. Unfortunately, I couldn't revel in the small success for long because I had much more pressing matters to attend to.

As sure as I was that the other brothers in the house wouldn't be stirring until late afternoon, I knew one was already out for his morning coffee. I knew that he was my best shot at a sobering dose of reality concerning this mysterious succuBella and her meddling, mind-fucking ways. And so, I'd gone down to Tillet at the ungodly hour of ten-thirty am, hoping Jasper could help me clear my head.

It was still too early on a Saturday morning for many students to be dragging their sleep-deprived asses to the dining hall, so I easily spotted him sitting at a small table in the back against the windows. Moving to the scrambled egg station, I let my thoughts wander. I couldn't understand what the issue was nor exactly what really I intended to tell Jasper. I was having enough trouble coming to terms with the night in my head, let alone trying to explain it to someone else.

After all, last night hadn't been particularly unusual. Start-of-term parties were always the same. It was crowded and crazy and teeming with new freshman eager to immerse themselves in the perks of college life. A few of them got sick and some of them passed out and most got a healthy enough helping of 'college life' to keep them from returning anytime soon. It was the same shit every semester. It was equally unsurprising that I'd woken up next to a half-naked female. What was out of the ordinary was that the half-naked female had a name I remembered.

I mean, I wasn't a complete ass. In my defense, said partially clothed female bed occupants rarely remembered my name either. I was a Phi Chi brother and that was enough. It was always an unspoken, mutual agreement between participating parties - girls assumed frat boys only wanted sex and, well, most of us certainly weren't going to turn it down. No one expected flowers or follow-up.

However, this morning I had changed the natural course of mixer-night hook ups. I had extended a breakfast invitation and subsequently been rejected. Neither of those things ever happened. Ever.

I'd been so lost in thought that I hadn't realized I'd reached the end of the breakfast line. I looked down at my plate to see I'd somehow gone through the motions of accumulating a scoop of runny scrambled eggs, two burnt sausage links, a piece of rye toast and an apple. I didn't even like rye bread. I dumped the entire meal, ceramic dish included, into the garbage as I imagined sitting across from Bella at a blue checkered cloth table in Mae's, both with a heaping hot stack of blueberry pancakes. My stomach growled in annoyance, knowing the visual was just a tease, but it wasn't the only part of me stirred by the scene in my imagination.

I sighed and quickly crossed the dining hall. Jasper looked up from his newspaper and coffee as I approached his table. I cocked an eyebrow as I scanned the Business section he'd been reading. I swear, if I didn't see the guy do keg stands on a regular basis I'd think he was a sixty year old living in a college student's body.

"A bit early for you, isn't it? Don't your kind hate sunlight?" Jazz asked, folding his paper in half as I pulled out a chair across from him and sat down.

"Heard you had a good night," I teased, ignoring his jab. I'd seen Jasper periodically throughout the evening and though the hour changed, the company didn't. A tiny, black-haired girl had remained glued to his hip and from my vantage point, he wasn't hating it. Emmett later mentioned her name was Ally or Alex or something with an A, but more importantly he said she'd come with Rosalie, as had Bella.

"I'd say it was above-average." He grinned and took a slow sip of coffee, his eyes glancing quickly around the room. They widened suddenly and he stood, sloshing some of the hot liquid out of the paper cup and down the front of his white tee-shirt. Oblivious, he waved his other arm.

Slowly, I twisted around in my seat to find what had elicited such un-Jasper-like behavior and, almost immediately, I found the source. By the doors, scanning the room on her tip-toes, was said tiny, black-haired girl. Her eyes passed over our table and she beamed, returning Jasper's wave before heading in our direction.

"What the…? Alex is meeting you for breakfast?" I asked in an accusatory whisper, lowering my voice to a hiss even though she was still much too far across the room to hear me.

"Alice," he corrected without looking at me. "And yes."

"Doesn't that, like, go against fraternity rules somehow?" I felt the oddest twinge of jealously. I knew I was being childish, but I simply couldn't stop myself.

Jasper laughed and rolled his eyes. "New year, new rules."

I didn't get a chance to respond because Alice had reached our table. She and Jasper took a few moments to smile at each other like idiots before he pulled out the seat next to him and offered it to her with a sweep of his hand. I covered my mouth with the back of my arm to avoid gagging.

"Hello, Edward," she said, reaching for the pile of napkins near the window.

I dipped my head in greeting, though it likely went unnoticed because her full attention was now on the task of blotting the light brown coffee stain on Jasper's shirt and giggling. I wasn't surprised she knew my name. After all, I was the president of the fraternity she'd spent the evening at, partying and apparently performing some evil, voodoo love shit on my little brother. I could see my much needed man-to-man talk with my best friend was not going to happen, though in light of these very recent events I doubted I'd be given the reality check I'd been looking for anyway. Evidently, breakfast with the freshman girl you'd spent the night with at the start-of-term party was appropriate now. Who knew?

Too bad mine had turned me down, I thought bitterly.

"So, did you have a nice time last night?" I asked, surprised by the slightly sour tone in my voice. Alice's hands stilled and she tossed the damp, crumpled napkin onto the table.

"It was a great party," she responded, shooting a sideways glance at Jasper that I couldn't decipher. "It's just…" She hesitated, her fingers moving to play with the edge of the discarded napkin. "It's too bad my friend…Bella…ended up leaving. I just hope she isn't mad at me." She gave Jasper a small smile and he returned it with a sympathetic one.

"She…left?" I asked, trying to seem nonchalant, even though my interest had definitely been piqued.

"Um, yeah. I mean, the party was really great," she answered, obviously thinking I might be offended someone had left my party early. "It's just that she's not really into the whole party scene. I went to find her around twelve to make sure she was alright, but she was gone. I was a little worried, honestly. I've never seen her so," she paused, searching for the right word. Seemingly unable to find the proper one, she simply shrugged. "But, Rosalie promised she had talked to her. She told me everything was fine and that Bella she was safe and in bed."

I almost choked on my tongue. Jasper eyed me suspiciously as I coughed and sputtered and pushed his half-empty coffee cup towards me 'Safe and in bed' was certainly one way of describing where Bella had been last night. I knew Rosalie was truly something else, but that comment took her nerve to a whole new level.

"I do think she had fun while she was there, though. I mean, I've rarely seem Bella really let go like that." Alice shrugged and beside her Jasper cocked an eyebrow mischievously.

"Funny," he said, idly tracing the edge of the table with his middle finger. "Edward made it a pretty early night as well."

I glared at him, my face heating unexpectedly. I wasn't sure why I was suddenly feeling so private or modest. Bella hadn't asked for my silence, but somehow I knew she'd be mortified if I made the table privy to last night's activities. Although, if the details were safe with anyone, it would definitely be Bella's best friend. Still, I jerked my head sharply at Jasper, hoping he got the message. Thankfully, his smirk faded.

"God, are you guys as hungover as me?" Alice groaned. She was perched on the edge of the table, holding the sides of her head with her hands. "I don't know what Emmett put in those red cups at the end of the night, but it definitely wasn't any kind of juice I've ever had."

Jasper chuckled and shook his head. "Emmett's last call party juice?"

She nodded, pressing her fingers against her temples, and slid off the table. "Maybe I should eat something."

"Grease," I said distractedly. "Eat something greasy. It will help."

"And apple juice, not orange," Jasper added in agreement.

We both knew exactly how she was feeling. Emmett's 'last call party juice' was a concoction of all the liquor left over at the end of a party. If there were only a handful of beers left, he often threw them in as well. It was fucking nasty and strong and a recipe for liquid hangover. Unfortunately, by the time last call party juice was being served, you were already to drunk to give a shit.

Alice seemed to consider our advice for a moment before nodding. "Can I get you guys anything?"

When we both declined, she headed for the breakfast line, finally giving me some much needed alone time with Jazz. He leaned forward with his palms on the table and narrowed his eyes as I slouched down in my chair, running my fingers through my hair.

"Well?" he asked, knowingly.

'Well," I repeated with a sigh. "I was with Bella last night."

Jasper pressed his lips together tightly, but otherwise looked unsurprised.

"And this morning," I added. "She never left last night."

The hint of a smile played at Jazz's mouth and he made an 'mhmm' sound in his throat. His reaction certainly didn't match the small flicker of panic that had leaped I my chest since I'd woken up. I needed him to understand the severity of the situation.

"We…talked," I whispered.

Now Jazz broke out into laughter, sitting down heavily into the chair across from me.

"Stop the presses! Talked? Good god man, think of the children!" Jasper grinned and clutched his chest, his words laden with sarcasm. Then he straightened and shrugged. "Yeah, so? Alice and I talked too. It must have been a nice night for talking."

I rolled my eyes and leaned over the table towards him. "No. We didn't just talk. We talked…while doing it."

Jasper shook his head and rolled his now empty coffee cup between his palms. "And this is worth mentioning to me because?"

"Because!" I shouted in exasperation. I lowered my voice again when I noticed a few people seated at near by tables glance over. "Because, it's wham, bam, thank you ma'am. That's how it works. That is the tried and true way it goes. There is no commentary involved."

Jasper regarded me silently for a moment before his shoulders hunched forward and he laughed, eyes crinkled with amusement.

"It's not funny," I hissed, feeling more uncomfortable than ever. I scrubbed my hands against my face in exasperation.

"Sorry, sorry," Jasper offered, slowly recovering from his laughing fit. "Commentary, man? You make it sound like someone was giving a play-by-play." He cleared his throat and began in a serious tone, "'well folks, it looks like Edward Cullen is off to a good start this season. Though fans have been disappointed in past performances it appears things are already heating up tonight. While it's still uncertain whether or not he'll score, he's definitely putting himself in good position."

"Hey, I never leave the fans disappointed," I argued, but now I was laughing along with his sportscaster impersonation.

"Jessica Stanley would beg to differ," he shot back.

"Low blow." I pulled my face into a frown and shuddered. Just hearing her name triggered my gag reflex, something I was ashamed to know she didn't have. Thankfully, Jasper changed the subject.

"You guys talked during sex? So what?"

I considered his question for a moment, realizing I wasn't quite sure why the banter had unnerved me so much. It hadn't been horrible, really. In fact, if I thought about it, I'd actually kind of enjoyed it. Maybe that was the issue.

"I liked it?" I had intended it to come out as a statement, rather than a question, hoping my confession would alert him of the problem. Maybe then he would leap across the table, shake me by my shoulders and warn me to never see her again. But instead, I just sounded unsure. And stupid.

He simply shrugged. "Ok?"

Now I was getting annoyed. Jasper was the logical one out of our trio and he just wasn't seeing the dire situation for what it was. There was obviously something wrong here and I needed him to snap me out of it. The sex itself had been above-average at best. It was certainly nothing to get all worked up over, but for some reason I was all bent out of shape over the teasing and casual observations. Something in my brain was out of whack and it was too early in the year to be losing my mind.

Unfortunately, the conversation came to a close when Alice plopped down next to Jasper, tray heaping with a mound of eggs and bacon on buttery toast. It would have been fascinating to stay and see where the hell she planned to put all that food, but I was starting to think that maybe I had sought out the wrong brother for advice. I flipped the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head and stood.

"Leaving, man?" Jasper asked.

"Yeah, I need some more sleep."

He nodded slowly and I said goodbye to Alice before turning and heading for the doors, feeling even more confused and unsettled than when I'd come.

_

* * *

_

_say hi, yeah?_

_:)_


	12. TWELVE: Stranger in a Strange Land

___Characters belong to SMeyer. Inspiration comes from the Twilight saga and Patrick Sean Smith. Creativity is mine._

* * *

_I'm learning to fly but I ain't got wings_  
_Coming down is the hardest thing_  
_I'm learning to fly around the clouds_  
_But what goes up must come down_

**learning to fly - tom petty**

**Chapter Twelve: **Stranger in a Strange Land**  
**

The walk of shame was aptly named, though my journey could be better described as a misguided stumble through proverbial hell.

So, maybe I was being a bit dramatic, but this was really putting a damper on my whole college experience. One would assume that it would be easier to find your way around the campus in the daylight, but the night before I had rather blindly followed Alice and Rosalie, too busy worrying and fretting and losing myself in my head to pay attention to the exact route we had taken. Now I was lost in the much more literal sense though my head was not much better. Not to mention, the sun was doing seriously awful things to my tender feeling skull.

I'd attempted to call Alice something, like, eleven times, but she wasn't answering. I'd sent two desperate texts, pleading her to return my calls or just message me the name of our building or call 911 to find me or _something_, but so far I'd heard nothing back. Eventually, I gave up, declaring her unreachable. I had no idea where she was and the addition of that thought was enough to send my already increased levels of paranoia into over-drive.

As I wandered hopelessly around the campus, no one paid me any mind though I projected my own harsh judgments into their curious, innocent glances. In my modest jeans and top, with my hair pulled up in a messy bun, I looked just like every other fatigued college student daring to traipse the grounds on a Saturday morning, but my insides were churning with turmoil and embarrassment. I had acted foolishly. I had gotten caught up in the game, playing the part of 'cool college Bella' far too well. I'd lost myself, which is to be expected when you're trying to be something you most definitely are not.

I wasn't exactly sure how long I'd been aimlessly walking in the general direction that seemed like it might possibly lead to my dorm, but it had been awhile and I wasn't really making any ground. I couldn't even remember the name of the building, so asking for help would just make me look like a bigger idiot. I was approaching a blue bench, chipped on the seat and splattered across the backrest with dried, white paint. I was pretty sure I'd passed this bench before, which meant I was probably going in circles. With a sigh, I collapsed down onto it, giving in to the idea that I might never find my room ever again. I'd become one of those local legends, a ghost story of sorts, where people talked about the girl who still wandered the campus, looking for her dorm after ten years. They'd say that if she crossed your path, you'd have bad luck forever and everyone would avoid me. Typical.

I pulled my legs up to my chest, balancing my heel on the bench seat and rested my chin on my knee.

I wasn't crying, per say. It was really more like leaking. I was tired and frustrated and embarrassed and the emotional overload chose to present itself in the form of wetness escaping from the corners of my eyes. I attempted to wipe them away in frustration, angry at myself for allowing the moment of weakness, but it seemed that the more I fought them and acknowledged them, the harder they came. Defeated, I cried into my jean clad legs, feeling more foolish than ever. I missed home, which was stupid. I hadn't even been at college for a whole twenty-four hours. I spent longer stretches of time out of the house on weekends during high school, so why I found myself homesick was beyond me. Although, this was a lot different than spending the night at Alice's.

My personal pity party, however, was interrupted when I felt rather than saw someone approach me. I planned to ignore them until they moved along, but they unexpectedly cleared their throat, demanding my attention. Blinking into the sunlight, I lifted my head off my knees.

"Yes?"

The tanned boy who stood before me shifted a little on his feet, but he looked neither uncomfortable nor deterred by my less than friendly greeting. In fact, he smiled and held out a hand, tucking the brown, paper bag he was carrying under his opposite arm. I stared at him suspiciously for a moment before I begrudgingly untangled my limbs and shook it.

"You're the girl from last night," he said with a small smile. "The beer pong girl."

I rubbed the dampness from my eyes and squinted at him, waiting for a flicker of recognition, but nothing was coming. I tilted my head and he laughed.

"Jake," he introduced. "I was at the party last night. I'm going to be rushing Phi Chi."

"Oh," I answered, nodding. I could feel my insides twist at the mention of the fraternity and the flashes of images from the previous night that forced their way into my head. I ignored them the best I could and tried not to pull a face. "Are you a freshman?"

"Mhmm, you?"

"Yep." I slid my feet down off the seat, letting them slap against the sidewalk.

"Are you going to be rushing a sorority this semester?"

I had to cover my mouth with the back of my hand to keep from laughing out loud in a rather obnoxious matter. I shook my head vehemently from side to side and wrinkled up my nose. "Uh, no. I'm not really the Greek life type."

"Oh," he said, tilting his head.

Thinking I might have unintentionally offended him, I waved my hand as if try to erase the words I'd just thoughtlessly uttered and attempted to clarify my statement. "I mean, I'm not cool or fun or particularly social. I doubt I'd ever get a bid anyway, even if I did rush."

He didn't agree with my assessment, but he didn't deny my assumption either. He did, however, make a sort of humming noise in his throat. Then he smiled warmly in a way that lit up his entire face and made his eyes crinkle at the edges. He had a kind face and somehow, it made me feel better, even though I was still lost, wearing yesterdays clothes and smelling like shame. I smiled back.

"So, do you have a name, beer pong girl?" he asked.

"Bella," I answered, extending my hand this time. With a chuckle, he shook it.

"Well, Bella. It was very nice talking to you. Apparently I'm a Phi Chi favorite, because I'm already running errands for the brothers." He rolled his eyes and lifted the brown bag, but I could tell by his impish expression that he didn't mind the early hazing. "I need to get a move on if I'm going to deliver this to Emmett's girlfriend and still making the meeting I've got with my advisor."

"Emmett's girlfriend?" I repeated. Something had flicked on in my head, but the bulb was still burning fairly low.

"Yeah, um, Rosalie?" he said, reading something off the front of the bag. "She's in Douglass Hall, room number 112."

Suddenly, my brain illuminated with full blown comprehension and I jumped up. I could barely contain myself from hugging the boy. Rosalie lived in my dorm, which was the unfortunate turn of fate that had led to this entire mess.

"I'm in Douglass Hall," I said with a grin, trying my best to mask my relief. "I'll walk with you, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," he answered. "I'd love the company."

Utterly overjoyed, my spirits lifted. Apparently, I wasn't going to be lost forever and doomed to wander the campus for all eternity. I let him lead the way, which, of course, was back in the direction from which I'd come, increased pep in my step and a smile on my face.

"So, what's in the bag," I asked curiously.

Jake shrugged. "No idea."

"Maybe it's her personality."

I wasn't sure if Jake even knew Rosalie or had experienced her icy wrath, but as I began to laugh rather hysterically at my own joke, he had no trouble joining right in. This, I decided, was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

o 0 o 0 o 0 o

Unfortunately, the high of finding my way home was short lived once I made it to my room. I said goodbye to Jake before directing him to Rosalie's door down the hall. Considering Alice still hadn't answered my messages, I figured I'd be waiting on the floor outside or door for awhile. On a hopeless whim, I knocked, already prepared for disappointing silence to respond. To say I was surprised when the door flew open was an understatement.

"Bella!"

Alice's hug was part body slam, part lung crushing squeeze. Her method of dragging me by the arm into the room wasn't much more gentle. I tugged myself free of her grip and shuffled to my side of the room where my bed waited, soft and inviting.

"I called you," I grumbled, sinking down onto my mattress. "And texted you."

Alice scrunched up her nose in thought before turning and digging through a discarded pile of clothing on the floor.

"Ah ha!" She pulled her cell phone out from the mess of fabric and denim and held it up triumphantly. Then she looked at the screen. "Oh, wow. Yup, you did. Sorry about that."

I shrugged and sighed. At the time I had been on the verge of a panic attack, but now all I felt was exhausted. It seemed that whatever dam had been holding back a full-blown hangover during my time of crisis had been broken. Now in the safety of my dorm, with no adrenaline to keep me moving, I felt the full impact last night's poor decision.

I leaned back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Almost immediately it started to spin and I could feel the blood leave my face. I sat up abruptly and hunched over my knees.

Alice was staring at me with a burning intensity I could feel boring into my skin. I looked up and met her eyes only to notice that she was also grinning like a loon. This was almost never a good thing. It meant she was either up to something or hiding something; sometimes both.

"Are you alright, Bella?"

"Just a little hangover induced vertigo," I answered, rubbing my temples with my thumbs and praying the conversation would end at that. Of course, I knew better. Even though I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with the covers over my head, there was no way that Alice was going to let that fly.

"I don't think I've ever seen you drink so much," Alice commented, idly twisting a finger through her short, black hair. "It was impressive."

I shrugged slightly, trying to spare my body the wave of nausea my movements were now awarding. If I didn't feel like my body was being run through a meat grinder, I might have felt a smug bit of triumph from her comment. The visual of ground meat, however, was enough to trigger my gag reflex. I pushed my hand against my lips and Alice eyed me with a sly smile.

I wished she would just get on with it already and stop drawing the conversation out. It wasn't like her to stall and I expected a full interrogation of my whereabouts to be first on her agenda. The faster we could get through that, the faster I could get started on the nap I was so looking forward to. Suddenly, something occurred to me.

"What are you doing awake this early, anyway? I'd expected you to be out of commission for the entire morning and a majority of the afternoon." That had always been Alice's M.O. after a night of drinking - barricading the door to her room as she spent twelve hours hiding from the sun under blankets and only moving to use the bathroom or down a glass of orange juice. I was surprised to see her awake, let alone so perky while I wallowed in my murky hangover.

Alice blushed, which was a rarity in and of itself, and pressed her lips together in a tight, knowing smile, trying to wave me off. Her evasiveness confused me, but as the possibilities for her behavior flipped through my brain, I all but fell off the bed.

"Wait," I said, holding up a hand as the pieces slowly fell together in my muddled mind. "Did you ever come back to the dorm last night?" I pointed my finger out at her in accusation.

She began to turn pink, opening her mouth to explain, but then her lips formed a silent 'O'. Something I'd said seemed to trip a wire in her head because suddenly she was on her feet and her eyes had widened to almost double in size. She smirked as she stared at me and I slowly realized my mistake.

"You didn't know that I never came back to the room last night," she squeaked, practically bouncing with excitement from her revelation, "which could only mean you weren't here either! Bella Swan?"

I groaned and closed my eyes. Besides the hideous headache she was intensifying with her squealing, I realized the whole discussion could have easily been sidestepped if I had just kept my mouth shut and quietly nodded along to whatever she'd said. Still, I had to admit my curiosity as to who Alice spent the night with was blossoming.

She hopped up across the room and leapt onto my bed. I moaned in agony as the reverberations off the mattress rattled my aching head.

"Spill it, Bella," she demanded, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she ignored my distress. "Everything."

I knew better than to protest. Once Alice was zeroed in, there was no escaping her interrogation. Not until she was satisfied she'd squeezed every last juicy detail from the story would she let up. Slowly, I brought my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. Alice mimicked my position on the foot of the bed, staring expectantly at me.

"You spill," I countered, trying to buy some time, however futile. "You didn't come home either."

She studied me for a moment, obviously torn between gushing about her own night and pestering me about mine first. She blinked twice and tilted her head to the side, seeming to be deeply concentrating. Then a grin broke out across her face and see clapped her hands together.

"I was with Jasper," she whispered, as if it was some massive secret. "We stayed up almost all night. I walked back to the dorms with Rosalie around four in the morning. I figured you were sleeping and didn't want to wake you so I got a few hours of sleep and freshened up at Rosalie's then met Jaser for breakfast in the dining hall." She grinned and clasped her small ands together. "Bella, he is amazing!"

Her smile became impossibly wider and she released a high pitched giggle. My eyebrows rose slightly up my forehead as I watched her dissolve into the likes of a school girl with her first real crush.

"He's the real deal. His hair, oh my god, I just want to reach out and touch it. Is that creepy? Oh, well. And he plays the guitar and his voice is so...amazing. But he's all shy and modest about it too which just makes him that much more attractive, you know? He likes all this history crap and knows all these random facts which is totally nerdy in this cute way. Oh my god, Bella, I'm not even taking a history course this semester! Do you think there's time to change my schedule?"

I was interested in Alice's gushing, honestly, I was. But there was one thing I really wanted to know; one thing that would really set me at ease and make my own story much easier to tell.

"Did you guys…" I asked, tilting my head suggestively, but letting the end of my sentence trail off. Immediately, her face flushed pink and she smacked a palm against her forehead.

"Oh, god no, Bella. I would never be one of those frat whores who just…" I must have visibly cringed because her hand slid slowly down her face until it was covering her mouth. Her eyes became the size of saucers and she gasped.

"What?" I shrugged, picking at the hem of my shirt, hoping to nonchalantly play off the situation as no big deal. Alice was having none of it. She crossed her arms and stared at me sternly, waiting for me to come clean. I rolled my eyes and laughed nervously.

"Its not that big of a deal. I drank too much and Edward…""Edward! Edward Cullen!" she screeched, interrupting me and launching herself across the bed. She gripped my shoulders so tightly it hurt. "You didn't! Did you? Oh my god, you did!"

I chewed my bottom lip and stared down at my knees. There was no point in lying and a small part of me wished I could spill every indescribably perfect detail, but I simply shrugged and fidgeted my fingers in my hair.

Alice was never speechless, ever, but now she sat in front of me with her mouth hanging open, shaking her head in disbelief. No words were exchange for a full two minutes as I shifted uncomfortably under her stare.

"It isn't a huge deal," I said, breaking the unnerving silence. "I was drunk, but consenting. He was, well - he was a guy. Might as well start off college right."

Alice whistled and seemed to find her voice as she gently nudged my shoulder. "Bagging the gorgeous Phi Chi president? I'd say that's starting things off right. Do you like him?"

My throat tightened and my face grew warm. "Jesus, Alice, no. It was just sex. Tonight it will be somebody else."

My best friend's jaw dropped in shock.

"For him, not me!" I clarified, shaking my head.

"It's so strange," she said slowly, tapping a finger against her chin. "I saw him in the dining hall and he didn't say anything. I even mentioned you leaving the party early."

Alice gave it barely another moment's thought before she shrugged and hopped off my bed, but I was not so quick to dismiss the thought. My stomach tightened into a knot. There were only two real possibilities he would have for not saying anything. The first was that he was trying to protecting me by keeping quiet. The second, and much more likely option, was that he was embarrassed to say he was with me. After the way I had left, I doubted he'd maintained any loyalties to me and my reputation. I was very doubtfully on par with the quality of girls he usually slept with and it was probably his own reputation on the line.

Not that I really cared what the reason. Either way, I was benefiting from his silence and that was all that mattered.

"'Beer-pong champion Bella'", Alice said, interrupting my thoughts. She was standing in front of the mirror with a green tank top held against her chest. She cocked her head thoughtfully to the side. "It has a nice ring to it. Like you should come with your own Malibu beach house and hair accessories. You know, like Barbie or something. Except you'll come with a set of red cups and an unstable plastic folding table. Ooh! We could totally market this!"

I sighed and shook my head. "Alice, I didn't even win. Not even close."

"So? I bet Barbie isn't a natural blonde either." She turned to me and grinned, holding up her shirt. "Now help me pick out something to wear. I'm meeting Jasper to go buy books."

I rolled my eyes but slid to the edge of my bed, still eager for my nap, but genuinely happy for my best friend. I tried not to think about what this meant for us, though.


End file.
